Shifts in the Rain
by Taku94
Summary: The slightest breeze can change the course of falling rain. What if this time around, the rain fell differently? In one world a trio stood together, chasing ideals and dreams that would only drive them to infamy. This time around, circumstance fragments them, affecting the world in a way no one could perceive. May change to M later. Language. Violence.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Naruto, and all characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto__. I own nothing, save for my OC's. They're worthless enough for me to own :/_

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**Chapter 1:**

The human masses converged down the steely mainstreet of Amegakure no Sato, mindlessly trudging below a battered networks of pipes. Hundreds of shoddy straw sandals smattered across the saturated concrete beneath, tossing globules of foul runoff water into the air. Only beneath the rusted tubing were the sullen streets safe from the iron grey rain, the steel bullets that relentlessly hammered down upon the population. The dull cacophony of sandals and the thip thip of rain ricocheting off sheet metal and concrete blurred the senses into a depressing slurry of greys, rust and damp cold. The people, despite having adapted to the ruthless rainstorms, naturally took sanctuary beneath the pipes, crossing the streets only when perpendicular piping provided protection. An oppressive air bore down upon their slumped shoulders and listless gazes as each individual simply followed the mass ahead conjoining onto larger crowds, a braindead network comparable to simple bloodflow.

Amongst the scrabbling rabble of bland faces, muted murmurs and tattered clothes, a peculiar sapphire haired girl shadowed an obnoxiously bright redheaded woman and a white haired young boy.

Stormy amber eyes cut into the pair as the tiny orphan girl skilfully flitted between the arterial civilian hoard pumping onwards beneath the pipes. Her pale, slim face shimmered beneath a thin veil of water and drenched locks. Within the sodden girl's narrowed eyes, one would not find the sparkle of youthful innocence that emanated exclusively from childhood. No, one would find only an icy, calculating focus as those very eyes locked on to a small mesh bag hanging lazily from the red haired target's grasp.

Even at such a young age, the girl's affinity for stealth could rival that of a seasoned genin. Maintaining varying patterns of distance and carefully ensuring to drop her gaze after a few moments at a time helped to shake off that damnable human sixth sense of feeling watched. Misdirection and maintaining a low profile whilst planning an approach is the key to daylight larceny, after all.

The redhead in front carrying the bag provided a suspiciously simple mark. Most couples would carry anything of worth in the hand between them, providing a more difficult target for the plague of starving orphans that Amegakure seemed to house in abundance. This woman's gait was just too carefree.

Any other day, the striking orphan girl would have serious doubts about tackling the duo. Many shinobi within the village were tasked with posing as a mark to scout out the local opportunistic orphans. The children would usually get caught then dragged off into the Barracks to be conscripted. To those children caught out of the loop, the spartan food supplied daily, easy access to safe water sources and a warm bunk and a roof overhead offered solely to trainees would ensure the orphans followed without much of an effort, a few choice words and perhaps some dried rations to tempt them.

For orphans in the know, the Barracks was the place that haunted their every waking moment.

The means to survive. What was less known to any fresh orphan was that those who were dragged off to serve were never heard of again. If an orphan paid enough attention and avoided conscription for long enough, they would learn through the mutterings of civilians about how the conscripted were sent to war after a meagre month or two of training. Always followed by a "good riddance" or some other venomous words.

They tended to learn that something was off during the bi-weekly funeral procession. A morbid parade of open coffins down the main street tended to offer an insight into the shinobi life, were they shrewd enough to see it.

'The means to survive.' The mantra ran through the girl's mind as she bit her lip, a nervous tick she could never shake off. Getting caught would mean her demise through conscription and this woman was an enigma. The risk was too high. The girl's stomach growled lightly, hunger, her hands began to quiver with the weakness a couple days without food brought. The easy mark ahead could be a gift from Kami herself or a ticket towards a forced shinobi life. Another growl and the girl made up her mind.

Shinobi, despite the tremendous differences between each in terms of build, posture and attitude would always show at least the slightest signs of physical superiority over civilians. A year and a bit of careful analysis of the general shinobi pool and on the fly escapes from them had hammered these observational lessons into the shrewd young girl's mind. It wasn't long before she could read the signs of an undercover shinobi. They could slump and pull off the general civilian posture easily enough, some could even lead an orphan into conversation without giving away their roots. No, it would be the lean curves of developed muscle, the occasional scar marring their faces, necklines and hands and the rough callouses that decorated the inside of their fingers and palms. No sign was perfect however, the local farmers showed many, if not all of them.

A farmer's eyes however, wouldn't constantly pan over their surroundings, evaluating everything and everyone in sight. Their gaze wouldn't need to be hidden from. The girl shook herself from her musings. None of the signs were apparent on this woman. Yet to be a woman in Amegakure and to carry oneself in such an open manner was foolish-

-the odd couple halted. Her eyes snapped open. She stifled a gasp as she was cut from her musing.

'Idiot!' She hissed inside her mind as she had stopped dangerously close to the couple. She had stopped as the couple did, a suspicious action that would have any alert shinobi dragging her towards the Barracks for attempted larceny. They knew the drill. Paranoia set in as scenarios of the woman dragging her towards the cursed place filled her mind. She tensed, her throat dry as she prepared to run. She could berate herself about it later, she had to move! A bump on her shoulder from behind caught her off guard and she stumbled. Panicking, she opened her eyes as her heart thundered,

''Watch it, brat.'' mumbled a passing man ambling past her.

Her pulse slowed as she tried to remember how to breathe. She refocussed upon her mark only to be left watching in utter confusion as the woman ahead handed the bag to the child she was with. The redhead stepped out from underneath the dry sanctuary of the pipe into the open, baring herself to the thunderous rainstorm above.

''Mother, its raining there! What are you doing?'' The small boy, no older than nine, looked out from behind a mop of pure white hair at his mother who dropped to her knees in the open part of the of the street, her hair instantly plastered to her soft face as the rain formed an icy halo around her silhouette.

She smiled as her gleaming violet eyes shone against her pale ivory skin. She caught her son's shining indigo eyes from beneath his fringe. Placing her fingers around her eyes, she giggled, motioning to the shy boy that she had caught a rare glimpse of his eyes.

''I see you!'' she cooed softly. She opened her arms outwards to goad the boy out into the rain, her plain clothing darkening as the rain took it's toll.

''Come, my Nagato! Everybody's so gloomy today! We can't have this weather getting the good people down, can we now, my little Uzumaki?'' Her mellow voice softly strummed the sapphire girl's heartstrings the slightest crack formed on her porcelain mask, the tiniest corner of her mouth curved into a stoic half-smile. A warm feeling ballooned within her chest before a bitter stab of something nasty punctured it. The woman ushered the boy into the pouring rain. Anonymous faces stared at the couple with incredulity, a few even stopping next to the orphan girl to watch the spectacle.

The boy chuckled and spluttered as he ran to his mother, a mixture of confusion and bubbling excitement. The bag dropped, forgotten on childish impulse. With a strong tug, Nagato felt his shoulders raise as his mother brought him upwards into a tight hug, the pair chuckling like children as she brought his cheek against hers.

Warmth flushed through Nagato's freezing skin and bedraggled hair as he felt her lips touch against his cheek. He felt himself raise upwards.

''Mother! What are you-''

Questions became excited squeals as the laughing woman raised the boy above her head and spun him around, her long wet hair spiralled outwards as her ankle-length tan dress began to fan outwards with the motion. The young boy above squealed with delight amongst the endless droplets of rain.

''Faster, Mother!'' Laughed the child, screaming out as the giggling woman holding him up twirled faster and faster. Her eyes were closed and her round face was plastered with the permanent smile that shone through her pretty features as she laughed warmly. She brought Nagato down and threaded her nimble fingers between his, their chilled digits warming at the contact. She led the elated child into a nimble dance as their feet drowned in the deep rivers of cold water pooling on the stony street.

From beneath the pipes on either side of the street, a couple of cheers and smatterings of laughter rippled through the crowds that stopped to observe the spectacle. The people seemed to lighten up as they saw the dancing couple, energetic and happy despite the iron rain. The young girl couldn't stop but feel a quickening of her pulse as her heart raced. Another shrill bubble of warmth ballooned within her chest at such a sight before a gurgle from the pit of her stomach made her bite her lip. The bag.

She grasped the mesh and spun to run towards the nearest alleyway before a foot dug deep into her ribs. The air in her little lungs left her mouth in a vaporous mist. Her spine smashed into the water and concrete of the sodden slabs in the centre of the street. Her flesh froze beneath her tattered tunic as she bounced across the flooded concrete, the icy rainwater biting through her meagre clothing.

An average looking man stood over the young orphan. Dark eyes bore into hers as his sallow mouth twisted into a dark snarl.

''That bag doesn't belong to you, you little wretch!'' He roared, tendrils of spittle strung between his teeth, ''damned thieving orphans! Times are hard enough without your kind!'' A warm wetness smattered across the young girl's face as a thick globule of yellowed saliva bubbled down her cheek.

''You there, woman!'' The man demanded, his words grated against his husky voice. Ice flooded the young girl's veins. Her heart stopped as she realised the lovely lady would know of her attempted larceny. A strange new feeling punctured her chest as her heavy heart turned to lead. She tried. Oh, she tried to stop the overwhelming force of her jaw wobbling to stop. Her eyes grew warm and watery as her vision began to blur. She didn't even notice her freezing knuckles twist into white ivory as she gripped the bag with a death grip, her teeth threatened to bite through the ripe flesh of her soft lip.

The happy tone of the moment evaporated as she heard dark murmurs throughout the crowd about 'her kind'. She could hear soft footprints begin to approach as she turned her gaze to the floor, wishing she could just melt into the ground. _Like a shinobi_. She wanted something, anything to happen just to be able to get away. Whether it was the thumping humiliation in front of all of the crowd on the streets or the fiery pain pulsing throughout her ribs and spitting up her spine she found herself unable to move. The woman would be mad, the shinobi would come and she would be forced to into the Barracks.

''Oh? What's the problem here, mister?'' That warm voice pulsated softly through the rain. The young girl honestly felt the atmosphere warm a few degrees.

''This!'' Sneered the man, the young girl caught a sight of the pure venom lacing his ghastly gaze, slimy snakes slithered out his mouth as he spat on the girl again. His eyes honed in on the girl's balled fist curled tightly around the bag on the concrete. He raised a heavy foot-

-CRUNCH!

The girl's world erupted in pain as her freezing knuckles splintered under the impact. Eyes wide, a silent scream of agony erupted from her ragged lungs as every nerve below her right wrist exploded, snarling pain savaged and clawed at her pulverised bones and grated flesh.

''Your bag, woman! That orphan tried to take it!'' The man paused to stare at the woman, his shoulders heaved with fury alongside his heavy pants before he turned his blazing eyes onto the girl, ''you deserve everything you get! You and your kind are nothing but parasites! We work hard for everything we've got and you think you're in the right to come and take it as you plea-!''

''-Sir! Is that any way to treat a child!?''

The world stopped for the teary young girl. This was... New? An adult coming to her defence? Impossible. She had been caught as red handed and the pulverised flesh she once called her right hand. Silently she pondered if she had passed out without noticing and had fallen into a dream. She closed her eyes as her mind rushed to conceive when the seam between the harsh reality of situation and the bitter sweet embrace of her imagination occurred.

A sudden warm presence enveloped the girl as she felt someone move close to her right side. A gentle touch forced her to flinch as the pain in her right hand snarled as what felt like nimble fingers began wrapping something soft around her damaged extremity. Daring to crack an eye open, the girl saw a clean white medical cloth embossed with gibberish symbols wrapped neatly around her ruined knuckle bone. A strange pulse of what could only be described as warm cooling shut off the pain completely.

Looking up through teary, bleary eyes, a watery image of the smiling woman graced her mind through the rain. Softly the woman began to hum some melodic, unknown tune as she finished up binding the angry flesh on the girl's hand and produced a damp cloth from the bag between them. She began to gently wipe the saliva off the girl's blushing cheeks. The orphan breathed in an exotic, salty tang that the woman radiated, she hadn't even noticed herself moving into the redhead's gentle touch.

Her very skin danced at the soft touch the woman graced her with. Her eyes fell heavy as the shock of the situation began to take it's toll upon her tired body.

''Woman, you must be mad to help her. She just tried to steal your property!'' The man was shaken by what had transpired. Orphans were the worst creatures to lurk upon Amegakure and yet here this woman, who had a son to feed no less, was helping the very thief who had tried to steal from her.

The Second Great Shinobi War hit the village hard. Four of the five great shinobi villages surrounded the landlocked Amegakure and they all seemed to see the central land fit for a free-for-all battleground. Close to an entire generation of young adults had been lost defending their lands from overwhelming numbers of foreign shinobi who felt it right to murder the local shinobi and each other the Land of Rain's soil. The situation was desperate and pointless. Amegakure's forces had been steamrollered until one man, their new leader, Hanzō of the Salamander, had rallied his bedraggled forces and almost single handedly destroyed platoon after platoon of foreigners, driving them away from their favourite battlegrounds.

The war still raged on however, the deaths of so many young warriors, both ninja and parents, had left a sad legacy of orphans numbering in the hundreds and refugees from the settlements outside the walls of Ame that the already crowded population of civilians had to live alongside. They were despised. Despite the fact that the patriotic shinobi had sacrificed themselves to protect their land, their offspring were left homeless and starving. To say that food, water and shelter were scarce would be an understatement.

Yet here this woman kneeled next to a peculiar orphan, a thief no less, helping her. The once cheery crowd could now only watch in dumbfounded amazement.

The woman's perpetual smile shone down upon the traumatised girl as she breathed a few airy words to her, ''My, aren't you pretty, hm? May I ask your name, little one?''

With a hiccup, the girl obliged, ''K-Konan.''

''A lovely name indeed! It suits you.'' the woman's motherly smile broadened into a mischievous grin, ''Now, may I ask why you wanted my bag?''

Konan looked down to the ground in misery. She bit down on her lip to keep the tears back when just, as if by some kind of omen, her stomach produced a large gurgle.

The woman let out a light laugh at the girl's expense, only to reach into the bag and produce a small sudachi and a few damp onigiri.

''I'm sorry about your hand, little one. Though maybe now it may be better to ask people for things instead of stealing? Such a pretty girl couldn't possibly have too much trouble charming people just for a little food, hm?''

Konan pouted as an angry blush flared across her cheeks at the melodic words.

''Quiet, aren't you, hm?'' The woman giggled as she placed her forefingers beneath Konan's chin and raised her face to face her.

''You know, it's polite to thank-''

''-S-sorry, mam. Th-thank you.''

Another light chuckle rang throughout the air as the woman stood with her bag in hand.

''Aha! There we have it! You have manners befitting of a lady, I see. Just a tad shy, hm? Well, I must apologise but it's time for me to get my Nagato home.''

The boy who had stood in quiet wonder blinked as his mother touched his fingers.

Konan barely managed to keep her mouth closed as the couple began to move off. Wide eyed, she scampered back beneath the pipeline into the crowd, who ignored her in order to openly gawk at the the lady with the beautifully strange red hair. With a silent whisper to herself, she promised that she would never forget the woman who had helped her. A slight prod at her right hand wrapped in the strange bandage revealed that her hand was completely numb.

Konan turned to run down an alleyway when she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of a large mob marching down the centre of the street. Her heart stopped. Shinobi.

x

Nagato's head spun as his mother gently twirled him into a light spin. He chortled with childish laughter, his chest inflated with excitement and pride before his wet fingers slipped and he fell backwards.

He held his breath as he braced himself, knowing his backside would hit the floor.

With a gruff thud, the boy found himself still on his feet, mostly.

He blushed shyly before remembering how his mother would act. He turned as he closed his eyes with a smile, ready to thank whichever stranger saved him from his fall.

His breath coughed outwards as a heavy hand pushed into his chest, sending him backwards into his mother's grasp. She dropped her knees to the ground, grasping at the boy as he slammed into her chest, protectively snaking her arms around his shoulders and chest as she glared upwards at the hulking figure, her pretty face stained with anger and worry.

''Move civilians. Lord Hanzō will not tolerate such insubordination!'' Cracked the stranger's muffled voice.

Fear thumped through Nagato's chest as he caught his breath, pumping adrenaline through his veins. Shakily, he looked upwards and stifled a gasp, for fear of further enraging the man.

The hulking silhouette nearly blocked out the street before them as he marched forward, the rain seemingly avoiding him. Behind him stood a squad of huge men, all draped in cream-yellow bodysuits overlaid with bulky purple flak jackets. From the nostrils downwards, each man's face was hidden behind blackened respirators, their hairlines hidden by steely Ame forehead protectors, the lined metal plates were dappled with blotches of water. All one could see of their faces were the punishing glares emitted from their tiny, sharp, beady eyes that cut straight through the tomato haired pair in front of them.

''I. Said. Move. Civilians.'' Spat the titan in front of them.

Nagato felt himself being wrenched to the side as his mother dragged him back towards the dry haven of the side street. The pressure within his chest that thrombed at his heart deflated slightly as he realised the man's needle eyes were not glaring at him. Yet it returned in full fury the second he caught the glare directed at his mother.

''Apologies, shinobi.'' He heard her whisper as she moved away from the incoming squad, hoping against anything that they would escape any repercussions. Nagato noticed that the cheery crowd that had filled the streets had all dispersed within an instant. The thief had vanished alongside the food his mother had been kind enough to give her.

A murmur emitted from within the squad of shinobi. Upon the order, a shinobi dashed forward and grabbed Nagato's mother by the scruff of her neck. With a pained cry, she snapped backwards into the shinobi's rugged arms, releasing Nagato from her grasp on impulse.

''Mother!'' Nagato wailed, his little voice ran raw. Panic surged throughout his veins, he wanted to act, he wanted to grab his mother back from the titan and keep her safe. Yet fear ran ice through his body, paralysing the boy to the spot.

''Quiet down, little one.'' Came his mother's whisper, ''just keep quiet and do everything these shinobi ask, hm?.''

The man held his mother tightly with one arm tight across her chest and began running his free arm down her figure, patting at pockets and grabbing at her clothing. Her face flushed pink slightly as the shinobi's enthusiastic hands ran riot over her body as he searched her. She stood firm, her jaw clenched firmly in silent protest, trying to keep a straight face and maintain a strong image for her quivering son before her.

'Kami, I wish I told Nagato about Hanzō...' She thought, angrily wincing as the shinobi ran a hand higher up inside her left thigh.

'If I kept a weapon there, it'd be in your eyeball by now. Pervert.' She thought coolly, only hoping her previous words would contain her son as he witnessed the her humiliation.

Nagato's drenched skin crawled at the sight. His little fists balled as his fragile, frozen knuckles threatened to burst through his skin. His teeth clenched tightly as he felt his eyes sting violently. He had heard about nasty men who did things to women but seeing this man holding his mother like this...

''Safe.'' The shinobi muttered, passing Nagato's mother towards the squad behind him. The shinobi behind loosened their formation before closing in around her.

''Here, civilian.'' He continued, his harsh tone dimmed somewhat, ''Lord Hanzō wishes to speak to you too.''

Nagato stood firm as the titan hulked forwards, powerful, unknown feelings boiled with in chest that he would later learn to be of bloodlust, disgust and pure unadulterated fury as they began to erupt inside his little mind, seething from his clenched teeth as his fringe parted slightly. The shinobi tensed as he caught a glimpse of the boy's eyes as three dark black rings began to form over the boy's corneas and sclerae, the violet corneas merging with his sclerae into a lifeless white.

The rain shifted away from the child as a pale red aura traced his sihouette, a dark crimson colour bled outwards from the top of his scalp, staining his previously white locks with the furious red colour of his mother's hair.

''All of you,'' the tiny boy growled, turning himself to face between the titan and his squad. His new found voice and demeanour betrayed his tiny frame and age, his deadened eyes cutting into the shinobi and his squad, ''leave. My mother-''

The titan's eyes widened as he sensed a familiar influx of chakra surge from the brat before him.

''Chakra moulding? At such a young-''

''-ALONE!'' Nagato clenched his eyes shut as he threw his palms outwards to the sides, facing the titan and the squad. He desperately wanted them away from his mother. Whomever Lord Hanzō wasn't worth his mother's presence if his men did this. Something thick churned within his stomach, he felt sick and invigorated at the same time. He felt a detached giddiness as the roiling energy warmed him from the core, idly he noted that his hair felt dry. The thickness surged outwards from deep within him, energising the flesh it travelled through before he felt small, stinging pinpricks along his forearms and hands as the raw energy pulsed outwards.

The stone floor cracked and cratered beneath him, a sphere of force whizzed around him and shot outwards. The titan caught it on the chin and _catapulted _up and away, crashing in to a pipe above the street, before sliding down slowly and crashing into the floor in a lifeless heap. A shinobi shaped dent remained in the pipe before a jet of superheated steam blasted out in furious clash against the thunderous rain. The front row of shinobi from the squad braced themselves and were pushed backwards slightly, before one flew forwards at the young offender.

Nagato winced as he felt his ribs collapse from the force of the punches. His breath had left him as he barely felt the men's hands grab at his pockets and clothing, before he was dragged over the watery stone towards the rest of the squad. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he felt the ice water drown his clothing, shuddering as it ran it's cold fingers down his back as the cold air bit at his numbed senses and skin. The pinpricks along his arms suddenly inflamed as if on fire and his eyes turned into molten coals within their sockets. That strange power, it felt like all of it rent his energy from his body and left burns from whence it came.

''Mother..'' He whimpered, ''mother, run. Please, I don't want them to hurt you too. Not anymor-'' he lost his senses to darkness.

''The boy is unarmed, Lord Hanzō.'' Cracked the voice of the shinobi heaving the beaten newly christened redhead towards the squad.

''Very well. I will see him then. It appears the Uzumaki here has some explaining to do.''

The front row opened up to reveal a huge man within the shinobi, standing over Nagato's mother. He looked down at her from within a bulky facial respirator that carried upwards over his head to form a thick helmet. The rain washed over the dark metal and down a shoulder length black rain cloak that swirled around his thick, purple flak jacket. Embossed spirals adorned his armoured breast, demonstrating his status. The man's abyssal, coal eyes leaked out pure intimidation reinforced by a deep trench of a scar that ran all the way down his cheek towards his jaw. Despite his mammoth size and armour, the deadened eyes of Hanzō betrayed the slightest tinge of fear from deep within him, his stance was stiff and his clenched fists shook. He successfully put the fear of Kami into the young woman before him who misread his posture for anger, yet any trained assassin would pay for a chance to kill such a figurehead standing how he did. His nerves were clear to those who could read a man.

Nagato's mother quickly grasped at her son, dragging the unconscious boy towards her chest as she kneeled in the deepening water, whimpering at his condition through watery eyes as the rain thundered downwards, tossing water droplets into the air as it was hit by the bullets. Her head shook side to side as her eyes locked onto her son's new visage, her lips moving in an unintelligible manner as she appeared to be telling herself something.

Hanzō had visibly tensed at her motion, his guards drew kunai and placed them against the young woman's neck. A crushing air bore down upon her, paralysing her to the ground. The man stared for a moment as the deep crimson of the boy's hair paled back into the snowy white he observed initially.

''Another movement like that, Uzumaki Yumeka and I'll have your neck slit. You and the boy would provide Ibuse a good meal.''

Yumeka drew Nagato closer to her chest,

''You know me?'' she whispered quietly, failing to hide her fear. She went to swallow despite her paper dry throat before realising how tight against her windpipe the sharpened edges of the kunai rested, clenching her face tightly and letting out a small cry as she felt a few lines draw across her throat.

''I know everyone who resides in and around this village, you are no exception. As to why an unregistered chakra moulder, with a dojutsu and... Whatever else that... Bloodline was, no less, is within my walls is the matter at hand! Papers! Now.''

Yumeka slowly traced her hand along her chest, withdrawing a few sodden documents from a pocket within her dress. Hanzō's shinobi snatched the papers, glaring at them as the palest of blue auras swirled around the sodden paper. Nodding, he passed them onto another who opened a vial and began blotching the paper with the clear liquid. He nodded, then handed them to Hanzō.

Hanzō scanned the papers before clenching them tight in his fist, shaking with anger.

''My village took you in, Yumeka. A refugee directly after Uzushiokagure's destruction. You arrived nine years and four months ago with child. I've been kind to you, I allowed my administration to grant you a full citizenship, I allowed you to purchase property just outside of our walls, I even agreed to keep you out of the war because of your condition and under the pretence that you weren't trained by your clan to fight. You told us that much much yourself, you said that you weren't a kunoichi. Yet here, right now your son has activated an unknown dojutsu, a bloodline and performed ninjutsu! Do you expect me to believe what you said?!''

Yumeka's blood ran cold as she felt his fingers grip her chin tightly, with a whimper, her face was forced upwards to lock eyes with his, she could see the tiniest hint of hunger within the shinobi leader's eyes.

''I-I've never known.. He's never d-done this before...''

Hanzō glared, his grip tightening.

Nagato's eyes fluttered open slightly as his blurred vision captured blotches of familiar red. His spinning mind could only comprehend patchy sound as his small body was paralysed by the intense pain emanating from his liquefied ribs.

''T-the recruiters t-tested me...'' she whimpered, pressing the pained words through her trembling lips, the ice cold temperature began to set into her body, inflicting icy shivers throughout her, ''th-they said I couldn't m-mould chakra t-too.''

She wailed as his clutch on her chin tightened before feeling the kunai retract, much to her comfort. She tightened her grip ever so slightly on Nagato.

Hanzō sighed as he pulled himself up, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, ''Yes, this much is true. You are of no use to our forces.'' His gaze turned towards Nagato as his sharp eyes gleamed with pride, ''your son however, may provide us the means to overcome this war, both internal and external. That, or he will become a danger to us all. You have two choices, Yumeka. You and your son will come with me. He is to become a shinobi. His ability and my training will provide this village with a shinobi it greatly needs-''

''-And what if he doesn't want to become a shinobi!? I won't have my little one become forced into a lifetime of servitude like that!'' Hot passion fuelled Yumeka's words. Gone was the angelic voice, replaced with the fiery blooded fury credited to those of the Uzumaki lineage.

''I do not overlook things, Yumeka!'' Hanzō's dominating voice dropped a mountain upon Yumeka, ''I would never allow such a powerful shinobi to be created without a leash of some sort.''

''A-a leash?'' Yumeka's eyes blazed as she began to stand, Hanzō's guards brought their weapons up, only to stop in cold fear as the women they surrounded began to leak the purest of KI.

Hanzō placed a mountainous hand upon her shoulder and forced her back into a kneel, a little more gently than would be expected, as if he were handling a hot coal. His voice softened slightly, ''you, his mother. I keep you safe and provided for and he will stay in check. Your other alternative is execution. Such potential cannot go unchecked. With the state of the village, he could cause a revolt.''

Hanzō dropped back down to Yumeka's level, the determination from behind his eye grew fierce as his fingers clenched the wet concrete beneath them, ''I'm a harsh man, Yumeka. I have to be. I have to make these decisions to maintain this village's safety. I want to protect this place, our home, yet as strong and powerful as I am, I cannot do it alone. I managed to hold off four different nations and my shinobi followed me with fire in their eyes, we pushed all of them back and regained much of our lands. Yet what do we return to? Mutterings. The villagers have lost too much. The ground we recovered is ravaged, the blood shed by our own and the enemy have tainted the soil, the shinobi we lost, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters leave orphans which drain our resources. The people are beginning to want revolution, to rise against me but what will that achieve?'' Hanzō kneeled over Yumeka, his masked face came close to hers, their foreheads touched as he ran his palms across her hands.

"Nothing, they would weaken our village with the infighting, we would be destroyed. Imagine Yumeka, your son's power, imbued with the knowledge and lessons a shinobi only such as I can offer. With power like his by my side I could do what I've done once already. I could reunite our shinobi and finish this damned war. The great villages know I'm one man, they send spies to find my location and fight on other parts of our soil. With your son, we would be unstoppable, the treasonous mutterings within our walls would be halted as they listen to tales of our victories, Ame would be saved!''

He stood back up and extended a hand down towards Yumeka and her stirring child.

''So, Uzumaki Yumeka? Your choice?''

x

Konan sped out of a side alley, down a chipped set of concrete stairs, oblivious to how the heavily built up shinobi outlets and shops of the main streets of central Amegakure quickly degenerated into nothing but dirt and hastily assembled shacks, the chilling, sodden dirt underfoot drenching her calves as she ran. Without any pipelines above roofing off these open areas, Konan felt an iron wave of ice rain slap against her skin. She clutched the dampening food in her hands as her racing mind forced her back to the angelic lady and her son. Amegakure shinobi were angry and frustrated. They fought until their last breath and had probably buried more of their own than they had killed of their enemies. Despite their victories, they could only watch as their once prosperous farming land fell to the stench of decay. Then that woman, to Konan, the one adult since, since... Before a warm home and two smiling faces... Had gone and provided herself as an open target to vent the shinobi's frustrations upon.

She rounded around a few collapsed shacks and debris, probably a little cottage in a better time, to come across a sheet of corrugated steel that lay across of what appeared to be a huge section of cut-off pipe, that led underground. She had been lucky to find this place and not get caught. Outside of the alleyway, about five hundred metres after the pipe's entrance, began the shinobi training grounds. It was rare that she'd use this entrance as it was out in the open and so damn close to the shinobi but it was the fastest way to get in from the main streets and time was not on her side.

Konan nimbly slid between the sheet and pipe and wormed herself into the opening. She paid no attention to the freezing, festering water running along the floor as she wriggled and writhed through the sloped cylinder, the usual biting cold that clamped her lungs tight went completely ignored due to just under two years of being constantly cold and soaked. She forcefully maintained the precious gifts from the woman in her damaged right hand by shakily hanging them in a small bundle of cloth off of her wrist, keeping them above the festering liquid. She did not however, come off well from it, the sloppy piping caused many slips inflicting an alarming amount of angry bumps and bruises on her undamaged arm all the way up to her elbow. Her face remained impassive.

Finally, she nimbly dropped down into what appeared to be blank emptiness. A scratching noise rang throughout the area as a small light flickered in the form of a match as a figure approached.

''Ugh, Konan? That you there?'' From within the inky blackness, the small match-light revealed a shock of wild, orange hair. The light came closer, revealing a pair of sleepy hazel-brown eyes and the widest grin imaginable.

''Mother of!- You got that in one day? Alright, chow time! Begging all day can suck it, we're eating like king's tonight!'' The boy, it was revealed, bubbled in excitement at the pure prospect of simple food, bouncing on his heels as his now wide and very awake eyes shot between Konan and the musty food. She levelled a glare at the boy, whether it was his ignorance of their benefactor's plight or due to whatever... That... Verbal diarrhoea that came out of his mouth was the cause for her ire was up for debate. Yahiko froze upon getting, as he dubbed it, 'The Glare of Testicular Destruction' an ability that he swore was imbued into every female upon being delivered into the world. It was a trait that had taken him far too long to catch on to after meeting the usually impassive girl that, lest he shut up, fire and brimstone would be rained down upon him.

...Then he would be kicked in the family jewels.

With a strangled gulp, he watched as the girl placed the meagre food upon a tattered cloth covering a small crate that was barely distinguishable within the darkness, before uncharacteristically grabbing his wrist and pulling. Hard.

''K-Konan?''

''Not now, Yahiko. We have to help a friend.''

x

High above the crowded centre streets of Amegakure, upon one the tallest spires, the rain shimmered merrily around a transparent figure. Had any shinobi gifted with one of the legendary dojutsu focused hard enough from a distance, they would have maybe noticed the slightest of distortions between the path of the falling rain and as to where it landed upon one of the highest spires in village. Only the slightest shift within the precipitation indicated any form of movement as the figure shifted to, what one could only presume, catch a better look at an unforeseen development occurring upon the roof of a small building far below. A roof directly above a street of which none other than Hanzō of the Salamander himself stood, threatening the life out of a familiar hued redhead and her snow topped child.

...Scratch that, the kid's hair just went as red as a tomato.

''Uzumaki, maybe?'' The figure questioned no one in particular, ''I wonder...'' The thunderous rain masked a mischievous chuckle as the figure looked back towards the blobs of orange and blue on the rooftop below. ''Heh, brave little brats.''

x

''Sh-shinobi!? Konan are you-'' another glare, ''ri-right.''

The two pushed a large crate between them towards the edge of a single storied building, a weapon store, directly above Hanzō, his squad and the distressed Uzumaki. The smooth concrete of the unusual flat roof shimmered with excess water as the pair silently thanked whichever god provided the rain. The standing water ensured that the box shifted quietly and rather quickly despite its weight and size in comparison to the pair of young malnourished orphans.

''Another movement like that, Uzumaki Yumeka and I'll have your neck slit. You and the boy would provide Ibuse a good meal.''

''Bastard!'' Yahiko seethed quietly, his eyes began to brim with fiery determination. A boy of strict moral ideals, he quickly overcame little, unimportant things like fear, injuries and his own life upon learning of the woman's kindness to Konan, the woman's mistreatment below had gone on too long. Peeping into the crate as he slid the lid open slightly, he grimaced before shaking his head and facing his young accomplice, taking charge instantly over the quiet girl's personal mission. ''Well, it's no box of sharp metal things but I guess it'll do? We open it, drop the stuff and run! With luck, our friends down there will run our way in the mess and we'll get back to the hideout without getting caught. No one knows the ways out of here like we do! Sound good, Konan?''

The girl merely nodded. Her porcelain mask of a face allowed the tiniest of smiles to shine through one side of mouth and she began pushing the heavy crate again with purpose. Together, they moved the crate as close to the edge as they could get it without alerting the shinobi below. Yahiko chuckled lightly, leaning to open the crate fully and reaching in.

''Oh, I nearly forgot, you like paper, yeah? You've not been able to make those cool shapes-''

''-Origami.''

''Right, you've not been able to do your origummy anymore, have you?'' With an innocent smile, the grinning boy handed Konan a fair wad of paper. Konan blinked, looking down at the very suspicious paper as her eyes widened. Yahiko turned to face the the crate, removing the lid and sticking a weathered crow bar beneath it.

''Um... Yahiko!?''

x

''So, Uzumaki Yumeka? Your choice?''

''RUN, LADY!''

Yumeka spared a glance to the heavens above in desire to spot the owner of the holy voice of whom had given her that option, only for her eyes to explode outwards at the sheer number of explosive tags raining down upon the group. She may never had been a shinobi but nearly anyone, no matter what age, shinobi or not, could recognise an explosive tag, only an idiot- she snapped back to her senses and ran from the death trap with Nagato in her arms, diving into an alleyway to protect her son from the explosion that was sure to come.

''Ya-yahiko?'' Konan found herself practically in the air, trialling rather limply behind her mischievous friend as he charged down a set of steps.

''Hahaha! Make it rain! On your knees else we'll drop mothafuckin'... Paper. Fuck, that sounded so much better in my head..''

x

''Water style: Violent water wave!''

''Water style: Gunshot!''

Two of Hanzō's guard began blasting jutsu at the tags in the air but scattered as the huge volume of paper descended upon them. Yahiko and Konan made it to the alleyway just in time to catch a glimpse of the ninja scattering away from beneath the falling tags.

Konan had to stop and stare in wonder at the fear fluttering paper had caused. Elegant and deadly. She had to feel a little jealous.

x

Any close by genin with good ears would be able to make out the rapidly distorted rain atop of the large steeple, were they close enough. A muted, yet rambunctious chortling could be heard from the distorted rain as the figure appeared to be attempting to still itself. ''K-kami! Brats! Brats nearly took out Hanzō! Hanzō of the damn Salamander! Oh, this would make a great scene in my book! When the Snake-bastard and Princess hear about this... Hahahaha!''

x

''Urgh, h-hello?''

Yumeka looked up from beneath Nagato, she had spun mid dive to land roughly beneath him. Nagato's head spun as he looked up from his mother to see to two figures approaching him.

''H-hello?''

''Oi! Whattya doing on the floor!? We gotta go!''

Nagato's sight cleared as he focused in on what could only be described as the most obnoxious, offence-to-the-eyes-shade-of orange he'd ever had the misfortune of having burnt into his retinas. An uncomfortable feeling shifted beneath his shoulders as he felt something attempting to pull him to his feet. Yahiko stifled a laugh at poor Konan's weak attempt to lift the boy, before a deep cutting sense of guilt and frustration glazed over his eyes, a look that no child should ever wear. They were weak with hunger, he knew that. Konan was well adapted to masking things behind her next to silent demeanour but he could see her weakness within her thin, trembling limbs. Shaking his head, Yahiko hefted Nagato to his feet alongside Konan as Yumeka steadily rose from the ground.

''Search the area! Recover the Uzumaki!''

Konan and Yahiko's eyes met, the question thrown out there.

''Shortcut?''

''Shortcut.''

Eyes wide, the quartet took off, Yahiko grasped Nagato's tunic roughly as Konan took Yumeka's hand. They followed the wild orange boy as they charged deeper into the side alleys towards the orphan's hideout. The smattering of ruffled footsteps on the pipes above sent a surge of urgency throughout the group as they could feel the shinobi running around above them.

Like cornered rats, Yahiko skilfully led the group through corner after corner of dark alleyway, his well trained memory of the area enabling them to flit through the inky blackness without an issue. He began silently thanking the pipes above for completely covering them from the sky and shinobi above as he weaved around what he knew to be a set of crates ahead, before pulling Nagato down into a slide to cut through a large hole in the wall of what otherwise would be a dead end. After a few more twists, the footsteps above died off. Yahiko slammed to a stop as his eyes burned at the stinging sensation of light reaching his eyes.

Konan and Yumeka reached the pair a split second later to only to realise the issue.

''Konan... The hideout. We've gotta go out there.''

Konan blinked, straining her ears to hear the slightest sound of movement before nodding. Yahiko picked up the movement and took off down the stairs, Nagato in tow. He could hear his panicked heartbeat thump thickly, a rabid beast deep within thrashing against its ribcage of a prison. His grasp around Nagato's tunic began to turn his twisting knuckles into shiny white bone as he drew upon every last drop of energy he could spare to will his tired legs to go faster, willing himself forwards.

A lone, hulking figure watched onwards as they left, adjusting his respirator as he weaved a few lazy one handed seals, finishing with a half tiger seal as he stared at the group. He chuckled, ''Hidden Rain Secret Genjutsu: Lost in the Storm.''

The elements turned fierce. Snarling, biting and clawing rain tore at the fugitives as the howling wind hounded their eardrums. Yahiko's eyes froze over, his sense of direction fading through the freezing maelstrom and heavily impaired senses. Konan felt a strange warmth emanate from Yumeka's hand, as if some sort of warm broth ran up through her fingers, bubbling up her arm, neck and into her mind. As soon as the warmth breached her thoughts, it pulsed. Suddenly, the scene in front of her shimmered. The huge random storm that they had run into faded as if a veil had been pulled away from her eyes. Sparing a glance to Yumeka, a small shock jolted through the girl as she noticed how streaks of the woman's hair faded into a snowy white colour. Her violet eyes began to change slightly too, losing what appeared to be some redness and changing into an off blue colour. The woman had surprise slapped across her face.

''U-Uzumaki chakra?''

''This way, miss.''

Yumeka and Konan slowed as they closed in on what Konan knew to be the derelict cottage next to her, only to stifle a gasp as she saw Yahiko with Nagato continue to run full pelt towards the shinobi training grounds outside the other end of the open area.

''Hide here, miss.'' Konan stammered before turning and running towards the pair.

x

''Run, Snow-top, run!'' Yahiko blared through his tortured lungs at the trailing boy in his grasp. It had taken too long, they should be very close to the hideout by now. He passed a few ramshackle shacks that he could have been sure he passed moments ago. That, and that those shacks were mere metres away from the alleyway they had come from. Was he lost in the storm? An off tinkling reverberated along the wet ground as a sheet of shiny slivers of steel melded into the streaks of metallic rain. Sprinkling with soft clinking sounds in front of him. Yahiko's mind raced as he tried to think ahead. The hideout should only be seconds away but he hadn't accounted for being caught so early.

''Yahiko!'' Konan cried out unsure as what to had slowed the boys ahead.

Yahiko heard a muffled voice calling out illegible words as a pillar of iron grey water twisted into the sky some distance away. At the peak of the spiralling pillar, a demonic dragon face emerged from the grey water, it's skyward roar silencing the thunderous storm itself. Eyes of yellow water stared with maddened rage at Yahiko as the aquatic monster's scales bristled with the thousands of senbon that had blanketed the floor moments before. The scales shimmered and rippled within the storm, before the dragon shuddered, shooting the senbon forth.

''Down!'' Blared Yahiko, forcing his body to drop. To him, the group scattered and dived. Yahiko's teeth clamped down hard together around his tongue from the impact. Wind whistled over him as the senbon spilled across the sky, momentarily blocking out the rain. His face froze momentarily in the saturated dirt as he tasted the all too familiar taste of iron on his tongue before sharp pain seethed in his mouth.

''Come on! This way!'' He spat angrily, dragging Nagato along. Konan followed as Yumeka suddenly came to a shuddering halt.

''Nuh-naga-to...''

''MOTHER!''

Yahiko and Nagato spun to see a sad smile spread across the woman's face as patches of blotchy red ink spread across her clothing. The ink seeped around her chest and neck she fell to one knee, the torn smile across her pretty features becoming stained with the same redness, the wet rain dragged the stains down her chin and connected the sliding redness to the seeping red around her neck.

''Na- we shouldn't ha- come here. Go... Back'' a raspy cough echoed as red flecks formed a fine mist in front of her face. She slumped.

''Mo-MOTHEER! -umph!''

Yahiko forcefully grabbed the boy and turned to run back towards the alley, in a desperate attempt to flee from the monstrous dragon. With surprising speed, the child dragged the rabidly struggling boy through the driving rain before crashing face first into a purple flak jacket.

''Huh? Brats? Haha! I'm gonna make you bleed!''

Yahiko clutched his streaming nose as he glared at the shinobi through pained tears, his eyes shook with the desperation and unfairness of the situation. He suddenly noticed that there was no storm, only the usual mild to heavy rain and most importantly, no dragon. He was a while away from the hideout, having run past it a while ago, suddenly he saw Konan in the distance when he could've sworn she was next to him. Yumeka's body had vanished into thin air too. Summoning all of his braincells and intelligence, Yahiko spoke the most intelligent thing possible for him in the situation,

''Eh?''

The young shinobi before them was in his early teens at best, his face hidden behind a black mask with a bandana covering his head. A few locks of sodden brown hair stuck to his face, allowing the one visible sunken black eye, an eye brimming with supremacy and madness, to jangle it's crazy gaze over the pair. The crinkled lines that darkened his eyelids and shadowed the bags beneath them only added a renegade madness to his crazed demeanour. He stood in a wild manner, half crouched and leant forwards as if in mid jump. The rain danced and played over his attire and skin without a care in the world, mocking the two closest children as it rolled over him in an unobtainable safety. The standard armoured Ame shinobi attire that he donned with cut off sleeves appeared to bulk him out as his body, due to actual nutrition, left his arms muscled yet lean but still bulkier than Nagato and Yahiko's legs combined. The shinobi let out a blood curdling laugh as he tipped his head to the side, a wide grin visible from beneath his mask.

''Bad civilians! Could be spies... On my training ground? No, no, no, nooo...'' He snarled with a maddened frown, ''now, who to kill first?'' His eyes darted between the group before he flashed backwards, grabbing Konan by her hair. Yahiko's world slowed. A hole appeared within the still rain from where the shinobi had torn through, he watched as Konan's eyelids slowly widened as her amber eyes began to quiver in fear and surprise, her mouth began to slowly open into a small 'o' as the madman dropped into a spin around her, dropping his knee into the back of hers and tightly dragging her damaged wrist behind her opposing shoulder in a bone creaking lock. He flicked a sparkling senbon between the fingers of his free hand. His jumpy gaze captured Yahiko's eyes living their worst nightmare, his evil eye gleaming.

''Pretty girl...'' He growled, catching the words in his throat, ''DIE!''

''Calm yourself, Kirisame!'' With a resounding splash, the titanic shinobi from Hanzō's group appeared from where Konan had come from, Yumeka slumped over his shoulder. Konan gasped as she was pulled up into the air and thrown towards the other children.

''You there, Uzumaki!'' The titan's muffled voice truly betrayed the intimidation factor he could create should he remove the respirator. He could see the glazed look in the young Uzumaki's eyes showing that his genjutsu was still in effect, his mother probably looked like a bloodied pincushion to him. ''You come with us, now. We can still save your mother. Her vital organs are untouched.''

Konan remained ever the stoic child as Yahiko turned to Nagato, his shaky voice still somewhat firm despite his age and size,

''Like hell you will! Momma Uzumaki might've said you should go with em' but look at those guys! They're weird and crazy! That's like... Bad?''

Konan blinked in confusion, 'whenever did she say that?'

The pale haired boy stood in the centre, his head tilted to the floor. His ears ached and he couldn't see from within the storm. He didn't want to face the shinobi holding his mother, he could see the redness leaking from her, sliding gently down the shinobi's shoulder. His shoulders hung as Nagato and Konan moved closer to him, facing the shinobi again.

''Nagato, please. Your mother-''

''Isn't dead. She isn't dead. No she isn't.'' Evidently from behind his fringe, tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the saturated soil, his little voice drowned in the deepest depths of an ocean of sorrow, ''They're gonna save her, so you can both go.''

''Don't be stupid Nagato!'' Yahiko barged in, ''we need to go, your ma said it wrong, yeah! She meant 'come with us!''

''Well I said go away.'' The boy's fists clenched as he spoke from between his teeth, his sorrow seared into burned anger.

Konan stepped closer to him, unsure of when Yumeka had said such things to the boys and it sounded off. Something to do with the funny storm, perhaps? Placing a small hand on his shoulder, leaning in shakily, she could only whisper, ''No, let's go.''

''Never,'' the he responded, his hair began to shift unnaturally against the wind, crimson began to bleed in to the white, the air began to feel heavy around him somehow, ''go- AWAY!''

His indigo eyes shot open, three black rings reforming as the entirety of his eyes turned white. The storm, to him, suddenly cleared as he felt that powerful surge run through his body again. He could save her with this power, the power that had just silenced a storm. His palms touched Nagato and Konan before-

''-ALMIGHTY PUSH!''

x

Konan cracked a bleary eye open to catch a glimpse of the murky greyness of the sky. Purple and yellow blotches stood over a red blotch. After time, another red blotch appeared, seeming to sway towards the other colours, before they all disappeared into the greyness outside of her hazy vision.

''Kirisame,'' the titan crackled, Yumeka slung over his shoulder. His other hand placed on Nagato's shoulder. The boy looked rough after using whatever jutsu he had utilised against the titanic shinobi some time ago but the older man still had the bruises and slight concussion to prove it's effectiveness, ''We'll get the Uzumaki to Lord Hanzō." He eyed Konan suspiciously, he'd noticed that she never once had been affected by his genjutsu, the blood spouting from the orange boy's face gave him an excuse to have gotten out of it, at least.

"That girl, she must've received shinobi training from somewhere to detect and dispel my genjutsu in such a manner, probably the Leaf. We had reports of Konoha shinobi present in Ame a few weeks ago. Dispose of them both as you see fit.''

The titan and the pair of Uzumaki dissipated into a rainy shunshin.

''Hahahahaa! Yes, senpai! As you ordered! Water Style: Water Whip!''

A long tendril of chakra enhanced water fired up from the mad shinobi's hands. It snaked through the air before wrapping tightly around an unconscious Yahiko's neck, hanging him up into the air before the aqua whip flexed, sending his unconscious body crashing into the dirt and sliding until he stopped next to Konan.

A purple and yellow blotch reappeared within Konan's vision. 'Is it coming... Closer?' The simple question filled her dazed mind, desperate for any of her senses to work correctly in order to acknowledge the question with some sort of understandable answer.

''Gonna stab the girlie first! Make her neck bleed! Pop out her little eyes! Mix them in with the rookie's dango tonight, a good prank, yes!'' Kirisame cackled as lurched forward at off angles, dodging some sort of imaginary punches whilst savouring the helplessness of his semi-conscious prey before him.

The yellow and purple blotch filled her vision. 'Tingling?' Konan questioned herself, her dazed mind unable to comprehend anything. Her senses had all but been anaesthetised, barring the slight colours her heavy lidded eyes could make out.

Kirisame watched, almost enticed as the voluptuous vapour his breath created gently trailed over the girl's neck. Nimbly flexing a senbon between his fingers, he began running a sharp point back and forth over her jugular again.

''It's gonna gush! Spy blood in the rain! Warm, red blood! Hurrah!'' He raised his fingers upwards. Momentarily, his eye twisted into a gory display of satisfaction as he glanced up towards the rain before he slammed the needle downwards towards his target.

''Haha! -hrmph!''

A splitting screech of pain wracked the young chunnin's spasms as his desperate hands ran towards the biting cold feeling of metal jutting out from his solar plexus.  
''But from wher -gak!''

His vision clouded over as he felt the torturous kunai twist. As he faded into blackness, he could swear he saw his blood run outwards, as if sliding down some invisible extension of the weapon.

''Wha-wh...'' He dropped.

Konan saw the purple and yellow splotch drop out of her vision as she began to feel blood pumping in her eardrums. All she felt was a haze until the sharpest, most wretch worthy smell cauterised her nostrils and lungs. In a flash, she caught herself gasping for breath as her vision snapped into focus despite the tears she shed over the foul odour. With a harsh sense of clarity, she tasted the familiar taste of blood in her mouth, she felt the sharp cold bite at her nose and the fingers on her unbandaged hand and the numb pain throbbing at the back of her head, in sharp contrast to the splitting pain of her lip which she must've bit as she fell.

With a watchful eye, she saw the blood of the dead shinobi sprawled in front of her. Any child should undergo some form of shock at such a sight but far too many open coffins had been marched through Ame within her short lifespan as an orphan. After that, she caught sight of some kind of shimmer within the rain, blood hung in the air as it got caught in the rain and ran down the figure standing over Yahiko. She could make out what looked like a human hand painted in blood. Panic stabbed it's serrated blade into Konan's chest as she threw herself forward in an attempt to do something.

''H-hey! What're you doing, brat?'' Konan dived at the shimmer, only to hit something solid and with a voice. A small glass object became visible as it dropped from within the shimmer and smashed on the ground.

She landed sprawled out on top of Yahiko, facing him as she tried to pull him up. The foul stench returned as she leant close to his face to scream at him to get up before-

''-thud!''

''Urgh..'' Yahiko moaned, clutching his forehead, ''Konan? Whattya doing? What the hell is that smell!?''

Konan had her forehead clutched in her good hand as a result from Yahiko's sudden revival. A quick look up and down had the girl retreating with a well hidden blush behind her hair as Yahiko shot up in a desperate attempt to evade the pungent aroma.

''Gahaha! Oh, brat! Is that how you treat a lady? Never mind, there'll be more in the world for me if you keep that up!'' Came a somewhat perverse giggling.

Yahiko blinked before looking around, a panicked look struck his face, ''K-konan!? G-g-ghost?''

Konan sweat dropped as the muffled chuckling began again, ''what do you want with us, shinobi?'' She asked, reaching into her pocket to pull out an explosive tag.

''Hm, sharp one, aren't we? Well, for one, you just broke a highly valuable jar of toad oil. Oil so rare, that I'm the one and only man alive who can get it! Oh, and two, do you even know how to use that, brat?'' Konan's face didn't slip as she glared at where she thought the figure was. Already she was analysing the voice, it's huskiness created the image of a man in his twenties, maybe thirties, strong and -as he just let slip- a shinobi.

A defeated sigh slipped as the figure appeared to slump, ''geez, no fun are you brats? Gotta good poker face there, girlie. I've got a ladyfriend who could use a gift like that.''

The mild conversation stopped as Yahiko began trembling all over. He hunched over in his seated position and brought his fist crashing into the ground. Silence perturbed between the group as he began to vent.

''Damn it!'' he yelled, snarling at the ground, ''everything we just did, what was it for? They've got them and there's nothing we can do about it!''

The voice became stern, ''zip it, brat. Question time. Have you ever had shinobi training?''

Yahiko looked up, his eyes brimming with rage, ''Ya think?!''

''Hm, so a weak-ass civvy brat, aye? And now, may I ask, how many shinobi did you just face?''

''Two.''

''Congratulations, you can count! Now, are you still alive?''

''What kinda question is that?''

"I ask, you answer. Don't get smart, brat. I'm the damn ghost man here. Got any clue what rank the dead guy was?"

"Rank?"

"..."

''So you don't even know about shinobi ranks. Right. Did you know that you were under an B-class hidden genjutsu unique to this village the second you left that alleyway?''

''A what?''

''Genjutsu?''

''What're they?''

An exasperated sigh filled the area, ''Nevermind...''

''What are you doing?! This whole thing is pointless-''

''I'm trying to show you how utterly outclassed and hopeless this mis- plan of yours was!'' The voice had risen, a steel behind it that was threateningly vicious. The orphans began to shake as an indescribable terror suddenly washed over them, the feeling of impending death caused their hearts to thump violently as their non responsive limbs paralysed them to the ground.

''Look,'' the voice began again softly, as the intense sensation subsidised as fast as it came, ''you brats probably probably don't know which part is the business end of a kunai, so what you pulled out of your asses back there is beyond what many civvies could dream of doing. You're alive, escaped a badass ninja technique and made a legendary shinobi shit himself like a duck around plum sauce. Had you both understood chakra control and detonated those tags, Hanzō and his entourage would have been messy stains gracing a pretty little crater where they fell. You'd both be filthy rich and could've helped end this damn war a helluva lot earlier. I could be out on the road again, y'know? People do have research to do...''

''Detonated? Tags?'' Yahiko questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion before his eyes snapped open as he was slapped by suprise, ''what. Wait. Rich?!''

The voice chuckled gruffly, ''Oh, yeah.''

Konan's jaw clenched as her mind perceived the eventual point of the conversation.

"We're not becoming shinobi for wherever you come from."

Silence reigned for a few moments as Yahiko gaped like a fish at her then at the invisible lump.

"Hm, fine, fine. Not my call, I guess. Do tell me though girlie, I'm interested. What's your big plan of action now, hm?"

She bristled, before intelligently retorting, "not being a shinobi"

"Heh, alright." The pair of orphans could almost see the shit eating grin plastered on the man's invisible face. "You know though-"

''-this is our home! No way I'm abandoning it! To make this world a better for everyone and to protect my friends, that's my dream!'' Yahiko's passions fought back with a angry tongue, nothing would make him abandon Ame, the other orphans or the few adults who could trade food for labour, they had been too good to him for that. If he could bring the bonds that connected that small community to all of the Elemental Nations, then wouldn't the world be a better place? It was a dream worth dying for, in his opinion.

''..."

"..."

''Thats a good dream, brat. How though, are you going to accomplish it when you're dead in a dark pit will all the other idealists who tried it under Hanzō's regime, hm?. What'd you think Hanzō'll do when he finds out about what you two did to that guy there?'' Yahiko paused at the figure's words, half trying to figure out what the longer words meant, half turning round to see the bloody corpse behind them.

''Wai-wait! We didn't kill him!''

''So? Who else did then? Are you going to approach Hanzō and tell him it was the invisible ghostly guy? Oh, oh! Best give me a killer moniker! The Invisible Death? Nah, tacky.. Ame's Sexiest Invisible Thruster? Hmmm... Getting warmer."

The two orphans were just gawking by now.

The man sighed to himself, before continuing in a solemn tone, "right, you were both the last known people around here and I know my hearing is perfect. They accused you of being spies, that's a kunai sticking outta that henchman's chest right there. A shinobi tool. Put one and one together and bingo! We have two spies on the loose in Ame.''

The pair resembled fish the way their bugged out eyes bulged above their dropped jaws.

'Spies? How can children be-''

''-Kids as young as four are trained to be spies where I'm from. You think all spies are adults? I'll tell you now, they'll have many a way to extract information from your girlfriend here, brat. There's 'torture specialists' in most T&amp;I Departments of all the hidden villages, minor and major, that are convicted criminals dressed up pretty in nice little uniforms. Care to know what most did to young children like yourselves before becoming specialists?''

The children cringed and looked away.

''This world is rough kids, you've already had your fair share of it, looking at you both. Don't you want to learn how to fight? To protect those closest to you? To get strong?''

Yahiko's eyes visibly brightened at the thought as he spared a glance at Konan.

The voice chuckled again, ''Alright! I'd give you ten minutes before they come back checking for you two, get whatever you've got and get back to that alleyway, presto. I'll have someone waiting on you to get you an exit. You two aren't going to be leaving to fireworks and a crowd of cheering men and crying women, I'm afraid. Oh! When you find my friend, ask him, 'What did you say, frog?' Hehehe... He'll probably say sommat about being a toad.'' Konan quirked an eyebrow as Yahiko clenched his teeth as his balled fists trembled, was he really going to do this?

''I want answers.'' Konan spoke firmly.

''Eh?''

''You could've helped us save them.''

''Deal, now get out of here.'' Yahiko sent a quick glance to Konan only to catch her answering the figure with a stiff nod, he quickly followed suit. With that, the already invisible figure vanished.

The two shared a look before Konan swatted Yahiko over the head with the explosive tags, ''idiot!'' She chastised, ''these things blow up! Have you not seen the shinobi with them?''

''Ummm... No?'' He answered dumbly before bracing himself for another telling off, his hands already moving to cover his crotch as a reflex. After he reopened his eyes he saw Konan starting to run back towards the alleyway as his brain finally clicked, ''Hey! If they go boom, why'dya hit me with them?''

He took off after the blue haired orphan, disappearing towards the pipeline to prepare for their first time out of Amegakure.

x

_'He wants to change the world, huh? Could he be the student that I'm looking for? Either way, they'll both make fine shinobi for Konoha. Or get blown up. Meh, whatever.'_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Naruto, and all characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto, save my OC's. I own nothing, save for a barely functional laptop and an e-cig that I've only got half a bottle of horribly cheap liquid for. All hail astronomical accommodation fees!_

* * *

'Rain.': Thoughts.

"Rain.": Speech.

_Italics:_ Flashback no jutsu. Genjutsu, tend to be layered.

Flashing light warning: It's flashback central this chapter. If you suffer from photosensitivity or epilepsy, proceed with caution.

Doc manager won't let me double space, hoping this chapter comes out readable...

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

Konan spared a glance towards her unusually muted partner as he caught up to her outside of the pipeline. In her youth -her current age of nine be damned- stories of sunshine over Amegakure had filled her dreams and picture books. To feel warm light against her skin seemed like a ridiculous notion to a girl raised amongst an abyss of murky half-light and grey rain. These stories and dreams of sunshine had been dismissed as hearsay by her until the day she met him.

__The storm seemed only too happy to reign it's horrors upon the her. Drenched, speckled with blood and starving, Konan had collapsed upon an unforgiving slab of concrete set deep in to a doorway. Despite the reprieve from the rain, the wind howled at her frigid skin. She drew a half second of warmth from her quivering eyes before she clamped them shut. The tears chilled the second they formed as her chest began to heave. Her bared skin shivered and convulsed against the tyranny of the biting cold sinking its teeth deeper in her bones. Her lungs punched outward, convulsing with an ecstasy of sharp pain as she attempted to force back a sob.__

__Shivering, numb fingers reached up into her hair as she tore a tattered silk flower from a ragged headband off. The fabric band gave in easily and snapped in her fingers. The soiled silk would've been considered cute a few days ago sitting atop her head.__

__She could remember being told to close her eyes as she felt the warmth of nimble fingers that had clasped around hers, before reaching upwards to pull the band over her head. It had tickled and Konan remembered herself laughing as she was told to open her eyes. Her visage appeared in a small mirror with the flower in all it's glory blooming amongst her hair. Eyes widening, a bubble of elation had swelled deep in her chest as a woman had knelt next to her, peeking over her shoulder at the reaction. Dark sapphire hair, so like her own lighter toned bangs had spilled over the woman's shoulder down to her hips as her honey colour eyes, so like her own, gazed into mirror. It was a mental photo Konan had swore to never forget. A warm smile had bloomed across the pale woman's face as she pointed to a larger flower nestled in her own hair. She could hear the husky tone of her mothers voice so clearly back then.__

_"___Ah, it suits you, my dear. It's just like mine, see? Happy birthday, Ko!"__

__A pitiful moan escaped Konan's throat as she drew the flower into herself and curled around it,__

_"___Mother..."__

__And with that, the piteous wails of another street urchin partook in the hellish choir of the raging wind. Her lungs eventually gave in to the pain as a hacking cough threatened to tear her already shredded vocal chords into a further mess. She allowed her heavy eyelids to droop, hoping that the darkness provided would carry her back into her parents' warm embrace in the afterlife just like it would in many of her father's shinobi books.__

__Just as her laboured breathing began to slow to a stop, her skin tickled as she felt something soft brush up against her bare arm. Suddenly, the cold brought from the exposure to the raging wind dissipated. There was no real warmth and yet, whatever object draped over her allowed her body the chance to warm itself up. It was too light to be an embrace but pleasant now that the wind had been barricaded. Konan allowed a small sigh of content to escape her lips as she pondered.__

__'If this is the afterlife, it's not as nice as I'd have hoped. It's okay though, I guess.'__

__She stayed as she was for a while, the hope of opening her eyes to her waiting parents increasing by the moment.__

_"___It's not good to sleep outside ya know?"__

__...What.__

__With a small sigh, Konan opened her eyes only to snap them shut instantly. 'What in the world was that colour!?'__

_"___Hey! Stop playin' dead! You suck at it, saw your eyes open."__

__The voice of whatever that colour was seemed... different to most of the voices she heard recently. Indeed, should the voice have had a deeper baritone behind it, she would've almost jumped up instantly into her father's arms.__

__She had seen his white hair splayed across the floor however, a horrifyingly slow pool of red enveloping his snowy locks.__

__The game had ended the second she felt a finger jabbing into her side.__

_"___Shit! You haven't actually died, have ya!?" The voice held a certain tone of.. Panic? Yes, She had become quite associated with that tone.__

_"___Uh, wake up! I got you some grub!"__

__Grub? What in Kami's name?__

__Opening her eyes cautiously this time, less her retinas be assaulted by whatever THAT colour was, she looked deep into a pair of rich hazel eyes. Well, she assumed they were eyes, whatever graced her vision this time was so close she could only make out a blurred hazel hue with a slight hint of white at the edges.__

_"___Whoa!" Splash! The boy stumbled back into what only could be described as a small lake puddling beneath the doorstep. Slowly she looked at the boy, identified as such by his sheepish grin and one hand rubbing the back of his head lightly.__

_"___Damn, princess! Thought I'd lost you there!" He laughed. That voice. A warmth began to permeate through Konan's chest at the thought and it wasn't a warmth brought forth from the tattered blanket draped over her.__

__'A blanket?'__

__She checked herself over to see that she had indeed, been wrapped in a very real and still quite damp blanket. She couldn't care less about the thick scent of damp that pervaded through the musty cloth. Her eyes began to warm again as her hands tightly grasped at the blanket and her flower. She felt him come close to her again and slump next to her. With her eyes closed to stop the tears, she only felt a small weight settle into her lap. Opening them for fear of the unknown, she beheld the glorious sight of a small chunk of bread, as soggy as the blanket around her.__

_"___Might wanna eat that, it gets worse the wetter it is. There's more back where I sleep though, wanna see?"__

__She looked up to see the most radiating smile she had ever seen since her mother's. The strange heat in her chest bloomed and pumped around her body to the rhythm of her quickened heart rate as she took his offered hand.__

__From that day on, Konan could imagine what the sun might feel like.__

Yahiko right now was not the radiant sunshine she had become accustomed to. The butterflies that merrily flitted inside her chest whenever she was around the boy had been disturbed and flown away in fear. The boy's face had been stern as they'd collected the gifts from the red haired beauty and left their underground base -home- and headed back towards the alleyway.

With a light pat on his arm, the pair slowed. Yahiko's entire body seemed to vibrate with something Konan couldn't recognise, his balled fists shook as his eyes met hers. For a second the warm energy that radiated within his eyes had been gorged out, replaced with two darkened pools of shaking fury. A beat and they cooled. His posture slumped as he let out a heavy sigh that seemed to further pull him down.

"Yahik-"

"It just feels- it just feels like we're running away. We should be taking that ghosty guy and kicking ass right now. We should be jamming a pole right up where that masked bastard craps from and getting back those two back, ya know? Good guy style. Runnin' away, it doesn't feel right."

The smallest smile forced it's way through Konan's lips as the butterflies returned with feverish fervour. She didn't want to question the integrity of a 'good' guy that assassinated others by shoving a pole up their-

"It's all we can do now, Yahiko, the... invisible shinobi said he'd make us strong. We can save them later, once we're good enough."

He smiled and she silently wondered why her cheeks warmed slightly. With a heartfelt chuckle, he took her hand and dragged her onwards towards the looming alleyway.

...She would not tell him that she didn't think they'd see this place or the two from before again for a long time, if ever. There would be __a lot __of shinobi after them soon.

x

It was only once they got to the crates -Konan idly remembered how the woman nearly tumbled over them during their attempted rescue- that something was off. Shaking her head to clear herself of the stab of guilt that memory brought on, she looked to Yahiko who stared back with an uncharacteristically cool detachment that he displayed when they were tailed on the streets.

"Yah, we're being followed."

The pair spun around, Konan whipped out an explosive tag in a ploy to appear dangerous. They blinked. There was no one but a dark, empty alleyway and an idle paper bag drifting lazily through the air.

"Eh?" Yahiko summed the situation up perfectly, "Konan, I think we're broken, we don't mess this shit u-"

"Down here kids, rrrribbit."

"Aiiiieee!" If anyone ever asked him, Yahiko did not let out a falsetto scream at the sight before him. Before them sat possibly the largest frog they had ever set their eyes on. It's colouration was strange, it's skin held a burgundy hue, marked only by a dark circle that started around it's chin and led upwards to frame it's face. It ended at the two damn horns that sat upon it's head. Oh, it was also large enough to stand eye level to their friggin' waists.

Konan could only stare unintelligibly at this strange tangent her life had just taken before the invisible man's words cut across her mind.

_"___Oh! When you find my friend, ask him, 'What did you say, frog?' Hehehe..."__

Her mouth opened, about to comply to the ninja's advice-

"GAH, FUCK! DID THAT FROG JUST SPEAK!? LIKE WITH WORDS?!"

...Yahiko was a true master at first impressions.

The air grew heavy as the frog before them glared. Konan felt the back of her neck chill with cold dampness that wasn't rain. Yahiko gulped and shuffled slightly behind her.

"Hmph," the frog began, it's gravelly voice did not betray it's darkening mood as the pair conveniently noticed how a shield and a dull, spiked sasumata sat upon it's back, "I may not be graceful but a frog, I am not. I am Gamaken of the Mt. Myōboku Mountain Toads, Combat Sect. and Familiar of Lord Jiraiya, here to assist you two in your escape." He levelled a glare towards Yahiko, "Though it appears that my services are not wished for by one of you, for you have been quite degrading, rrrribiit."

The silence was permeable as Konan thanked her lucky stars that she wasn't the one to incorrectly call out the toad on being a frog. Silently, she pondered if the invisible man had actually wanted them to escape. The sasumata sat upon the fro-__toad's__back spoke volumes of the negative.

"Uh, uh! Nah, toad man, we could use the help! But you do speak right? I may have drank that gutter water from two blocks down again..."

"..."

"..."

The water from two blocks down was weird stuff. Konan had been awed to find that a wall could hold an intelligent conversation, gutter rats could dance with a feverish passion and that shinobi in multicoloured top hats and wriggling moustaches were both expressive and hilarious creatures.

The toad raised an eyebrow, do they have eyebrows? Before hopping past them, Yahiko flinched and promptly found himself pressed up against the nearest wall uttering, ''_i___ttalksittalksittalksittalks___.''_

Gamaken turned to face the pair, his cheeks puffed out into a croak as he shuffled on the spot and adjusted his weapons, "I may not be strong but I will do my best. Follow my lead, rribit."

Humble creatures, these giant talking toads.

x

The trio passed silently through a series of alleyways before the odd shouts could be heard from the local shinobi about locating the spies. Konan bristled with palpable fear, her enraged heart pounding against it's bone cage, as did Yahiko's, yet the fear for their livelihood did not rear its ugly head due to the shinobi hundreds of feet overhead who chased after a lost lead. No, it was their destination. Their eyes widened in dramatic horror as their blood turned to ice at the sight.

Across from them, set away from the large spires and hustle and bustle of the main streets, sat the bane of their young lives.

It looked like nothing more than a wall of patchwork iron. Central to the wall lay the rectangular maw which had swallowed many orphans, a morgue for both the naïve and compliant and for those dragged in kicking and screaming. It positively loomed in front of them. Ready to take them from this world. Printed across the top of the closed entrance read, 'Ame Shinobi Sect: 3rd Platoon, Vanguard.' The perimeter fence, in all of it's unassuming glory, waited as a predator would wait patiently for it's unassuming prey. A scrawling scar marred the face of the metal monster in front of them, carved out at about the height of an orphan, the misspelt chicken scratch read, "Thuh Baraks."

Yahiko spun towards Gamaken, his wild eyes tore into the toad as a cornered rat would whilst his trembling lip betrayed his underlying terror. He backed up a step.

"T-toad man? We.. We can't go there, we won't."

Heat burnt Konan's eyes as she came to a conclusion, it was so simple. Trick the criminals into lowering their guard, allow them to think they have an escape, only to drag them straight towards the prison cell. The invisible man was probably waiting in there laughing, donning his respirator and flak jacket as he began readying himself to begin their shinobi training. It wasn't fair. Like fresh new orphans on the street, they'd been played and delivered to the Barracks. Apart from his apparent link to Konoha and the escape, the man hadn't even __lied __about his intentions of making them ninja. Thoughts of escape were plotted and crushed as she glanced at the weapons the toad carried. Of course toads would be native to Ame, amphibians thrived in the wet climate.

She'd just began to re-imagine what the sun would feel like outside as a lone tear traced down her cheek.

"Rrribit! To aid your escape, we must pass through here, yes." Gamaken started, as the duo began to back away, "Master Jiraiya is waiting and he told me to be swift, for he does not have much time."

"You don't get it!" Yahiko hissed, "we go in there, we're dead! It's full of bad guys!"

Konan felt the nauseating twist of fear in her gut as she tried to tell Yahiko that the toad wasn't helping them but tricking them to go in. Words died inside her paper dry throat. She attempted to swallow as she tried to catch Yahiko's attention but her trembling left hand wouldn't obey her, her right remained unfeeling, as if it had been amputated.

"Rrribit, the shinobi? They're hunting for you elsewhere, this place will be unguarded. We must be must make haste for I promised my master that I would do my best. Come"

And with that, Yahiko shrugged and __followed__ the toad. Every working nerve in Konan's body fired as she attempted anything to stop him. She could only stare as the pair moved across the street towards the looming Barracks before pausing in a crouch outside the fencing. Yahiko's face turned around in confusion before he ushered her over. It was with bile burning her once papery throat that a tearstruck Konan forced her legs to mechanically stomp forwards. She wouldn't allow him to get caught up in this by himself, should they survive until they become shinobi, maybe they could escape in the war.

_"___That blonde one, drafted two weeks ago, saw her get deployed yesterday."__

_"___Good riddance, little bitch had a nasty taste for stealing my produce."__

_"___Aye, the fighters might be able to use her as cover."__

_"___It's all she'll be useful for out there at that age. Hmph, I won't miss the parasite."__

Konan vaguely remembered the girl, Yumiko? She always spared her some food or cloth after 'work'. The girl had always pressed the importance of the street girls looking out for each other. She'd always shared food and other necessities with a pretty smile, despite her dirt ridden face and unhealthily lean body.

She also remembered seeing that same face, lifeless and pale, being carried in a half casket down the main street two days after overhearing the gossiping stall keepers. She didn't even notice how her habitual lip biting had drawn out the iron tang of blood inside her mouth.

'I will not allow that to happen to Yahiko.' She promised to herself. With that, her mind seemed to regain control of her body, mostly. A fire began to simmer inside her chest as she thought about how they had been so foolishly played. She would face the invisible man with her patented stare and, should any chance arise, kick him in the crotch so damn hard his ancestors would become infertile. Male or not.

Righteous female fury is a raging bitch like that.

It was with no half-measure of terror that she watched the toad pull away a small segment of the fence and gesture for them to wiggle beneath it. The orphan duo's eyes met as they stood together in the rain as free human beings one last time. Desperation, fury, defeat. It was written across their shivering bodies and slumped shoulders. One final time, Konan allowed herself to gaze in to Yahiko's eyes. It was easy to see the nervous tension in his gait, yet as she caught his gaze she could see his tempered confidence harden into a steel stronger than any blade. An excitement she just couldn't bring herself to feel,_ to believe_, flickered over the hazel surfaces that forced the butterflies to take wing and fly.

'One last time, Yahiko. One last time, I'll trust you. I'll trust your stupid plans. If this works out, I'll follow you to the ends of this world.' Konan pressed herself against Yahiko and forced back a sob. She could feel his warmth permeate her skin as the cold howled against their exposed backs. He pressed a hand to her shoulder and pushed her back gently, staring into her soul with an easygoing calm and energy that made her mind race with the thoughts of the sun. His fingers moved from her shoulder to shift a stray lock of drenched hair away from her face to behind her ear as his face moved in closer.

'One last time.'

Konan didn't register the light dusting form across her cheeks as her heart beat a little faster when he closed his eyes and a grin split across his face. She did notice how her trembling stopped, how she straightened slightly within his arms.

"Heheh, ladies first?"

Chivalrous bastard.

Despite his conveniently sudden need to please a lady, Konan dropped down and crawled beneath the fencing. She hissed as it raked across her back, the first warning. Pulling herself over the wet concrete, she pulled herself up, before falling silent.

An empty concrete courtyard stood eerily quiet ahead. Twisted figures of crucified training dummies lolled against their assigned posts, as sacrifice to the elements swirling around them. The rain thundered off the bare concrete floor, the war drums that struck up the anthem of their early demise. Ahead lay a couple of warehouses, their corrugated steel shells added to the dull symphony of death. The toxic stench of soaked concrete mixed in with the wet, iron aroma of blood that ran down a few channels nearby caused the girl to nearly gag. A fading sparring circle drawn in the centre of the courtyard was matted with the old stains of combat, reinforcing the stench with that of the salty tang of sweat. Her stomach knotted for the thousandth time this day as the realisation of how out of her league she was in a place like this. An epiphany that tumbled upon her like a tonne of bricks. She would have to fight shinobi like the ones she saw earlier. Daily. She was under no illusion that the blood running down the drains nearby was the blood from the new recruits in training. She had the misfortune of seeing a few who had been punished. They'd been left to stand outside the barracks in nothing but underwear. The bruises and blood running from a multitude of different wounds upon their bodies nonwithstanding.

Yahiko shuffled under moments later, making no small amount of hisses as the fencing eagerly tore at his back. He was quickly followed by Gamaken, who turned to place the missing section back in place.

"We're here, good. Rrribit. Be cautious, for there may be a few guards further in. My master is waiting, we must hurry."

Yahiko huffed slightly, muttering something about broken records before settling Konan with a reassuring smile. The boy's faith in the stranger and his toad was idiotic but Konan honestly saw no escape from the situation. Resigned, she padded after Yahiko with haste, wincing as the butterflies in her chest waged war with her knotted stomach.

It wasn't long before she found herself standing outside a warehouse door. The giant rusted shutter door was slightly open, fending off the pitter patter drumming of the rain as the trio squeezed themselves inside. Konan's breath hitched as the door let out a low shriek as she squeezed through. A quick glance confirmed that there was no movement from the outside. She let out a sigh before turning around, inching herself forwards towards the leading pair.

The room inside was unnaturally cold. Not in the way one would describe the temperature, the Ame duo were well then more accustomed to that, it was an eerie cold that permeated the still air inside. The silence would've been deafening if not for the reprieve granted by the occasional dripping from the leaking roof. Something made them feel like they should leave, a primal terror that gripped their chests and clamped down on their lungs. The sinewy muscle built up on their frames tensed as they followed the toad hopping deeper in to the darkness. Without windows, the only light cast into the industrial room was supplied by the murky gloom cast from the open door behind them. Their shadows became dancing spectres in front of them, expanding and engulfing them as they walked further into the darkness.

From within the void emerged rows of plain, wooden boxes. Konan wanted to ignore the voice in her head that dully recollected that the boxes were the standardised six foot long boxes that served as wartime coffins. Gamaken led them further down, only for Yahiko to glance to the side and freeze. He instantly lost the battle to control a shout just as Gamaken's hand/flipper/foot tightly closed around his mouth. Konan turned to face the motion and froze as she caught the sight of a purple flak jacket. Slowly looking up, she looked into the glassy eyes of an Ame shinobi.

"Quiet, children. Rrribit. My master has these men under a genjutsu. They will not notice our presence, lest we make a loud noise."

Yahiko squirmed in the toad's grip before being released with a audible squelch. Pouting he hastily swiped the stickiness away from his mouth as he turned an unhealthy shade of green. Konan could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she walked amongst the library of coffins whilst noticing the occasional shinobi standing stock still. Years of flee on sight instincts rabidly screamed at her spasming muscles to turn tail and run but the sheer impossibility of the situation had her pinned with a sense of such morbid curiosity that she couldn't find it within herself to flee. She forced herself to resist the urge to poke the statuesque shinobi.

They continued past the boxes with unsealed lids, 'The ones that will be paraded open,' she noted before they passed the last open one. Yahiko nudged Konan, looking ahead with a scowl.

"Oi, oi, why are these boxes closed?"

_"___Father, why are those boxes closed?"__

__Konan had lost sight of Yumiko's coffin in the parade as her attention snapped to an unassuming father and daughter ahead. Carefully slipping the man's coin purse into her sleeve as she passed him, she heard his voice lower to a point that his daughter couldn't hear.__

_"___Sometimes it's better that we can't see the remains."__

"We have arrived, my master awaits." The toad rumbled, the pair looked ahead.

x

"Tenketsu points seven to thirteen."

"Acknowledged."

"Sixty-one to eighty six."

The wooden slat flooring barely made an audible noise under the med-nin's feet as the air around them began to cloud with the staleness of chakra saturation.

Yumeka cradled a saucer of tea, willing her hands to stop shaking. She ignored the angry sting of the hot porcelain raging against her frozen fingers, forcefully reminding herself that once they warmed, the saucer would be a pleasant temperature. She drew herself around the heated beverage, in a way the less fortunate still left outside to brave the frigid cold would coddle a naked flame. Her attempt to rid herself the icy, restrictive embrace of her soiled and soaking clothing proved fruitless, leaving an involuntary shudder to travel down her spine as a cold trail of water explored its way down the warming skin of her back. The damp clothing clamped down upon her body heat. Her dress, weighted down with water, pressed down around her shoulders as an unwanted lover would. She shook away the morbid likeness that took her back to a dark place. Her once idle musings of course, were but a vain attempt to ignore the hulking mass before her that was Hanzō. She hadn't touched the tea, preferring to allow her eyes to roam angrily over her son's unconscious form a small distance away from the village's most fearsome leader to date. The man stood facing away from her, his gaze affixed to the skyline of Rain countries metropolis.

Nagato had been laid out on a hastily wheeled in gurney before her vision had blurred back into focus, finding herself in an open room decorated like a traditional dojo, a rarity in Amegakure no sato's utilitarian décor scene. That is to say, there was no 'scene' other than bare corrugated metal walls and rough concrete flooring for the lower class. The large window Hanzō stood before would've cost her a lifetime of savings alone. Her stomach ached from the method -unknown to her- used to carry her back to the room from the village outskirts, yet not as much as her heart's rage bubbled and seethed at her son's condition, ignoring his inevitable future that she could do nothing about. An outburst of anger was restrained by only a protective layer of fear at the shinobi presence in the room.

Two medic-nin decked out in Ame's regulation lab coats -purple- ran their open palms across Nagato's unconscious form. The first had palms alight with the pale blue aura of a diagnostic jutsu and by his quiet mutterings one could only assume he was listing off the damage Nagato's body had undergone. The second ran her hands along the path outlined from the first, albeit much more slowly, her palms alight with the refreshing green aura of the Mystical Palm technique. The kunoichi's slight panting and drooping shoulders indicated just how much the intensive technique tolled upon her reserves after such a short time. This was all dutifully ignoring the steadily brewing stench of sweat, the musky thickness that began to permeate the chakra laden soup that the room's residents had called breathing air not ten minutes earlier.

Yumeka purposefully kept her face closer to the tea in a weak attempt to stave off the heady aroma saturating her space, Matcha, she noted, an expensive strain grown indoors that was a world away from the dry roasted stuff they drank at home, as a very rare indulgence. The sharp aroma stung her nostrils with each intake. The finest top leaves must've been plucked and ground to produce such a blend. She inched closer from her seat towards Nagato, wondering if it would be a waste to throw the scalding brew into a shinobi's face should they do anything untoward towards her son. Off blue eyes searched for the slightest shadow beyond the rice paper walls, searching for the concealed figures that stalked Hanzō as a vulture stalks death.

"Still yourself, Yumeka. My medics are repairing his burnt coils. Nothing more."

Yumeka grimaced at how obvious her attempt at covert manoeuvring must've appeared to the man. She was, like with most ninja arts, only given the most basic of education around them. Her head dipped as her brow knitted together slightly, the clan had no need to teach a child who proved unable to activate the clan's chakra after all. She was familiar only with the technique utilised by the kunoichi, whatever the hell Nagato reflexively did earlier was beyond her knowledge, excluding the shift in his hair colour. She couldn't quite stop the old pangs of shame that she felt through her disconnection with the most vital arts that had allowed her ancestors to rise to prominence. An Uzumaki without access to a strong chakra source, the very idea of it occurring to one from amongst a clan known for their huge reserves and vitality was ridiculous. An old, forgotten mixture of jealousy and shame squirmed in her stomach.

"Drink, I promise, I wouldn't poison such a blend."

She sipped lightly, forcing back a grimace at the bitterness of the thin blend, if anything, it didn't need to be poisoned, it already tasted as such.

Loud, calculated footsteps thundered out from behind the sliding doorway, the room's inmate's caught a few muffled murmurs between the concealed shinobi guarding the outside and the owner of the footfalls before the door slid open.

Rivulets of water tumbled carelessly to the ground from the huge figure that loomed in the doorway as he thundered towards them, stepping into the steamy lightbeams cast through the sweaty air from the window, Yumeka recognised the hulking titan that had got way too touchy earlier on, in front of her son, no less. It was this man's fault that Nagato had exploded like he had, landing them all in this mess of a situation.

It went without saying that the man had a glare that could melt steel on his back as he approached Hanzō. A glare that somehow hadn't escaped his notice due to his suddenly rigid posture. He stiffly dropped into a single kneed crouch, offering both of his palms upwards to his leader, holding a thin scroll as an offering.

"Lord Hanzō, my report."

Hanzō took the paper, noticing the shadows in the room twitching momentarily. For the first in a long time, he took an object without asking for pre checks, his curiosity having thrown his rampant paranoia to the wind. He had come so close to discovering secrets of the legendary Uzumaki clan, a clan that had taken many of the world's finest ninja arts and its practitioners along with them to their collective graves. The huge genjutsu toting jonin crouched before him in deference was one of his most loyal and finest, having followed him onto the battlefield from the very first excursion until the most recent. He would bring himself to trust, just this once, in order to see if he could use the situation before to his village's advantage. He unsealed the scroll, his eyes widening almost comically as he read further and further on.

...Two orphans caused this mess!?

Hanzō felt his eye twitch, he knew of the duo, a pair of Ame born kids who used to live in the farming communities outside the walls. They had lost their parents to different invading forces a good few years apart. A waste of valuable lives in his opinion, the duo had avoided conscription for many years, as a matter of fact, he had personally granted them a year's training in the ninja arts instead of the usual two weeks upon their capture due to just how good they were getting. The boy was impressive simply because he survived at the age he became an orphan. The young girl could've been valuable however, she may have carried Hōzuki genes, her mother had become enamoured with the Kiri missing-nin looking for asylum, many moons ago, before his time as a leader. Still, he couldn't complain, with the reports of Konoha shinobi scouting Ame, it would be unfair to accuse such a loyal jonin for ordering his chunin subordinate, Kirisame, if he was correct, to dispose of two slightly interesting orphans. He paid particular attention the the girl's outlined condition and the strange bandage she appeared to have been wearing, a bandage that seemed all too similar to the medical bandages recovered from Yumeka's bag. His gaze cut across the the subdued woman before him as he ordered his shinobi to withdraw the bandages from outside.

Upon his return, he dropped back into his low crouch and Hanzō's interrogation began.

He took the bandages and ran his hand along the seals, idly noting the quality of the foreign brush strokes that appeared to have been burnt into the cloth, the softness of the bandage contrasted the firm feel of the embossed scripture. His eyes only just managed to pick out battalions of miniaturised kanji grouped together to form spirals that repeated down the bandage, interconnected by illegible squiggles to form a linear seal matrix. Unusual, most seals were circular.

He twisted his arm to get a look at the other side of the bandage, only to gasp as the trailing edge met the lead end hanging on the other side of his arm. An all too familiar tug pulled at his reserves as he threw the bandage across the room. His shinobi flexed and was between him and Yumeka in a flash, his hands outwards over his neck and lower face, a kunai clenched in reverse grip in one fist over his off hand, fingers free to perform a seal.

"Stand down, Kyojin."

The shinobi relaxed, drawing himself back behind Hanzō and dropping back into his crouch. Yumeka noted how the man had eclipsed even Hanzō's large figure. The man in question flexed his hand, only to realise that he had been numbed from the forearm down.

"What happened!?

Yumeka looked upwards, her eyes glazed over as she appeared to be recollecting something she couldn't quite remember.

"When the matrix touches another part of the sequence, it completes the circuit, the bandage is keyed to numb the area it's applied to by um... Something to do with electricity." Her dull tone belied her forgotten knowledge, he could see the frustration crafted from the minute twitches of her jawline, her brow knotted together slightly in an unhidden attempt to portray her irritation at her knowledge.

He understood enough, however. To a shinobi, knowledge and awareness were usually most of the battle and Hanzō was a damn good shinobi. He was almost as familiar with anatomy and bodily processes as a top grade medic, utilising poison as a go-to weapon required one to learn lessons on the subject. He ensured that he retained all the information, lest someday he turn himself in to a frothing corpse.

Nerve endings would fire for a multitude of reasons, shooting electrical impulses at impossible speeds towards the central nervous system to create the feeling of pain. One could train themselves to ignore this temporarily but to actually numb an area to pain by stopping the nerves flaring was an ingenious invention. One would have to be careful with an idea like this however, the young and the aged could probably develop permanent nerve damage from any kind of constant long term electro treatment.

Nerves fire tiny, precisely charged pulses, fluctuations in the chakra fuelling the seal could end up making the nerves misfire, leaving the user in agony or could overload them, damaging the local nerve circuit and permanently damaging the user. He supposed these were meant to be for domestic, short term use, probably to numb training injuries whilst the user dragged his or herself to the nearest medic. Still though, to a shinobi, numbing an enemy was always an effective weapon and a much doted-on effect of poisons.

Still trying to feel the flesh he could barely co-ordinate, Hanzō glared at Yumeka,

"how long?"

"How long, what?"

"How long do the effects last?"

"I don't know, I've never used them before today." She sounded detached, her face wrought with a myriad of emotions that she feebly attempted to suppress, her mind wandering to the veranda outside the local nurse's home, many a year ago.

__"Ne, again, Yumeka?"__

__Yumeka sat atop a sea of knitted pillows, ignoring the scratchiness in favour of the pressure they took off her aching limbs. A large redheaded woman shifted her bulk in front of the girl as she busily ran her palms across the girl's limbs, tittering sweet nothings about reckless kids. Another day, another attempt. Angry red pockmarks blistered across Yumeka's skin, each jeering her as individual marks of failure. She hung her head, staring at her toes as she idly kicked them to and fro, angrily swatting at any of her stupid white hair that mockingly swayed into her vision, much to the medic's chagrin.__

__"Haha, um, yeah..."__

__"Training to unlock your true chakra again? It's okay, it'll come soon dear, it always does." Uzuyashi's hearty, warm voice always brought her confidence during her lowest times. It was always the jowly redhead that would brighten her day with a simple smile and a few motherly words as she healed the stingy marks that always, always covered her skin when she trained. She was one of the rare few that wouldn't ignore her if she passed, a smile, a wave, it always made her feel... Wanted? Acknowledged?__

__"Y-yeah! Tomorrow, Uzuyashi! I'll get it down tomorrow, ya know!" Yumeka's shout was accompanied by the salty tang of the sea breeze playfully swirling her white locks back into her vision, the girl grimaced and set a smouldering glare on the expanse of nothingness from whence breeze was birthed.__

__"Aha! Well, that's you all fixed up!" Uzuyashi missed the occurrence, too busy focussing on fixing her young charge's blistered coils, "oh, take these to Miwako will you? Yukisho's forever blowing himself up now he's in fuinjutsu training. Boys, huh?" Uzuyashi drew herself up, rubbing her stubby digits together as she admired her latest work.__

__"Idiots." An agreement, "ooh, what are these?"__

__"They're not to be messed with, Yumeka." The large woman was incapable of looking cold or scary, yet the lack of complete homely warmth with her tone made the seriousness of the matter clear, "the seals are my secret speciality and dangerous to people without a strong chakra supply."__

__Yumeka glanced up at the suddenly sorry looking woman, a flash of betrayal crossing over her expressive blue eyes.__

__"Don't look like that!" Uzuyashi squawked, the indignation ran with a high ecstasy alongside the shrill note, she paused and caught Yumeka's gaze with her heated caramel eyes, a smile training the laugh lines across her round, pudgy face, " I know, come find me tomorrow once you've unlocked your chakra and I'll show you, hm?"__

__Belief. Betrayal forgotten.__

__"Deal!"__

__"There's a good girl, get enough rest tonight, you hear? And plenty of vegetables!"__

Click! Click!

The irritating click of fingers snapped her out of her reverie, the fresh, tangy salt air of Uzu became polluted with rancid sweat, stale chakra and over bearing, testosterone fuelled shinobi, Yumeka almost forgot that he was awaiting a response, so cut off from her surroundings by the onslaught of her bittersweet memories as she was.

"I know you shouldn't wear them too long... Um, the longer you wear them, the longer the effect lasts." She answered mechanically, she was suffocating in this room.

"I see... Kyojin, prepare the bandages for study."

As the shinobi retrieved a sealing scroll for the partially used bandage, as he left, Hanzō came close to Yumeka's face, his voice dropped low so only she could hear. Averting her eyes allowed her to escape the pressure suddenly dumped on her chest and allowed her to escape the memory of the similar situation earlier that day,

"You can't utilise chakra though, explain to me why these are of any use to you."

__"You're trying Yumeka dear, don't worry. I believe there was a young man a good few years ago who only managed to activate his chakra when he was ten!" Failure. Again. Uzuyashi was running her hands along her pockmarked neckline, dutifully ignoring to mention her swollen eye, which she thankfully had worked on first. Her titterings were going mostly ignored as Yumeka scowled at today's events.__

__Failure and a reprimand from the Head.__

__"That boy grew up to be Head!"__

__A surprise, but the mention of him still turned her thoughts to misery.__

__She had been at the beach today, the cool breeze and chirping gulls filled her ears with the music of home, backed by the soothing roll of the waves. She playfully squiggled her toes into the sand and laughed as a nearby shell irritably got up on legs and scuttled away. The sky was clear, marred only by a few puffs of white, billowy cotton, leaving her the enjoy the glorious ball of fire that adorned the skyline, its gentle warmth energising her readied muscles beneath her warming skin.__

__Today was the day.__

__Closing her eyes, she felt her hands contort reflexively into a perfect ram seal, a seal cauterised onto her muscle memory by years of practice. She felt her breathing slow to almost nothing, leaving only the lazy roll of a nearby wave to sound a gentle crash of encouragement. Her mind turned inwards, blanking out the outside world, leaving her adrift in her own world. Just beyond her hearing she knew she would hear the lazy roll of her hidden chakra matching up to the heartbeat of the waves.__

__"Uzumaki follow the waves," He once said, "without, we turn to the wind to guide us home."__

__A breeze kicked up, irritating the girl as her hair brushed across her face, attempting to force her out of her trance. Irritated, she tried to focus her mind to pull at her stomach, at something she had never properly seen, heard or felt before. The impossibility occurred and Yumeka couldn't help but feel the rush of exhilaration as she felt an unrecognisable power pool in the area she pulled at before it exploded outwards.__

__Her eyes flew open as she screamed, her muscles tensed as the power hammered through them, before pounding into her skin. It felt as if her skin was lined with needles trying to poke their way out from the inside, already she knew that each needle would lead to the red pockmarks once again, all 361 of them.__

__She dropped to her knees as the caustic burn all over her body eroded. The sun had been obscured by a grey cloud and the waves____lost their lustre. She curled up into a ball on the warm sand and lay still as the grains cooled, dulling as the obscured sun fought against it's cloudy captor. She stifled a groan at her injuries as the shell from before slowly returned to it spot, the crab inside settling back down to rest. She lay simply watching the obscure creature do nothing, ignoring the idle strands of hair across her vision that mocked her by simply existing.__

__"Oi! Rice head!"__

__Yumeka's eye twitched as she picked her trembling limbs up to face a redheaded boy coming her way.__

__"I got in a fight today, Uzuyashi."__

__She hummed in a knowing manner, sadly aware of the events today.__

__"It was Yukisho, I brought Miwako those bandages like you asked me to last night and he was there," Yumeka growled a little as Uzuyashi's chakra fluttered over her vocal chords, "he said that the bandages weren't that great and that he could make better ones any time." Uzuyashi couldn't help but feel internally pleased about how defensive Yumeka got over her, it was cute if anything, though she could do without the clan acting colder around her now that she was associated with a potential 'unworthy'.__

__"So I told him he has to learn to stop blowing himself up making storage seals first! You should've seen his face!" Yumeka laughed lightly before she seemed to slump, a sadness pervading her usual bubbly demeanour. __

__"Anyway, I was training at the beach today, I thought I could do it, ya know! Today was gonna be the day! I followed the sound of the waves like everyone told me too and I pulled and I felt it! It went through me until it got to my skin cuz it burnt me again. I was gonna keep trying but then he showed up, an called me Rice Head again so I punched him. We had a fight but IwastiredandIlost. I didn't know Fa- the Head was watching buthewas and now he gave me a rep-rep-"__

__"Reprimand?" Uzuyashi offered, glad that she had heard the story earlier by overhearing the smug boy. A frown marred her features as she began to wonder just what the clan was coming to. The girl's speech kept quickening every time she forced back a sob, it was wrong to see a child of the clan learn to hide any potential sign of weakness from her own family. Because of them, her father no less.__

__"Yeah and then Yukisho said an unworthy like me deserves it and punchedmeintheeye. The Head did nothing! He told me to let it be a lesson and t-to totrainharder!"__

__Uzuyashi sighed, unsure what had been going on with the Head recently, he had been cold to everyone recently and damn near intolerable to the warriors with his excessive training regimens, it was getting a little silly.__

__"Well! Time to cheer a little lady I know up!" Yumeka blinked in surprise at her tirade being cut short, "I know I said you'd have to unlock your chakra first but since you've been trying so hard, I think I'll show you something special about my seals."__

__"Seals?"__

__"Yup, it's why I told you not to play with them."__

__With that, Uzuyashi sat down next to her, withdrawing a bandage, tracing her fingers over the central spirals adorning the cloth.__

Click! Click!

Yumeka twitched at that damned notion again, before relaying the rest of her memory to the increasingly irritating man, "The seals on the bandages, they draw chakra from anything they surround once the matrix is connected, it's how they stay powered."

"Involuntarily? I suppose the seal molds the chakra?" Hanzō seemed honestly surprised by what would be considered mundane sealing by Uzumaki standards.

"Of course and yes, that is the basic idea behind fuinjutsu." A risky shot at an infinitely more powerful human but does't sarcasm always bring the nicest feeling of satisfaction?

"But what if the user runs out of chakra?" Hanzō asked eagerly, ignoring the shot.

"Have you ever heard of an Uzumaki running out of chakra?"

"..."

"..."

"I thought not."

"What about the girl you applied one to earlier?"

Yumeka looked up, one eyebrow raised. Delicately, she crossed a leg over the other before raising the saucer to her lips. Sipping loudly, her gaze caught his.

"What about her? She's dead"

Cold.

"What?" It wasn't the action that took the man off guard, it was who's lips such a statement came from.

"You expected me to not help the girl? To leave her with her hand as mangled as it was?"

"But the long term effects-"

"She's dead, your shinobi killed her and the boy."

"You wouldn't have known that before it happened."

A sigh, "She was hurt, I made her feel better. She was no use to your shinobi without a working hand, they'd just kill her quickly the next time she got caught doing something, what's a little more damage going to do to someone with a timer on their life?" She paused before looking away from Hanzō, her shoulders drawing together as her voice caught, a more natural sad note commanding her voice, "such a pretty little thing too, better to be killed clean in the street than being thrown into the fighting or getting caught-" she shook her head and shuddered.

Hanzō got the gist of it though, it seemed Yumeka had felt a cold sympathy for the girl, good, he could associate that feeling with what he knew of the woman, cold indifference just didn't seem to fit his profile of her.

The pair sat in silence for a few moments, sparing a passive thought for another life wasted.

Time to move on with this...

"Uzumaki were always famed for their reserves, speaking of which, it appears that Nagato activated his." Hanzō started, hiding his excitement well behind his rough voice.

"I'm aware." She'd been blind to miss it, a mixture a pride and disgust welled within her at the memory. Memories surged forth of cheering redheads as they welcomed another of her friends and family into their unobtainable fold with her always reaching from afar. Her previous jealously bubbled reflexively, a disgusting urge she felt towards her own son for having an active Uzumaki chakra network. No, she was scared for him mostly, a chilled fear gripped at her very bones as she forced her lip to stop trembling. His active chakra would lead him into the life of a shinobi, it was unavoidable now. He would be noticed on sight for the powerful chakra that now resonated within him, one which would stain his eyes and hair as red as the blood which had built her once proud clan, the same blood which had puddled the sandy paths of Uzushiogakure no Sato close to a decade ago. Her jealous streak had been buried as fast as the Amegakure orphans who had been conscripted into fighting. As fast as her family had bled out on the day-

"-I was surprised when he was born, I assumed all Uzumaki inherited the famed red hair of their ancestors."

Yumeka laughed. It was a shrill sounding monstrosity that pierced the room, darkened the air around them and caused the four visible ninja to blanch as a cold sweat prickled their necks, she hadn't been aware that the fearsome leader ahead of her had kept such tabs on her, Nagato had been set up the second she claimed a citizenship, the irony of the situation wasn't lost on her.

"Y-yumeka?"

"We were so __proud__ of that chakra, ya know?" She muffled her giggle at the verbal slip she thought she'd dropped in her youth, her tone, venomous, "there would be a huge celebration right now, fireworks, seal displays, __family__."

"For... What?"

"Why for my beautiful boy activating the clan's beloved chakra, of course!" Her chirp was unnaturally high, the tone of a jealous child pretending to be happy that another got something they wanted, her tone further perverted by an underlying taste of a hidden madness unknown, "Oh, they would drink and watch the children play. Nagato would've been showered with gifts and affection. They would have the Head find him a teacher and he would finally be classed as an adult. A warrior, a scholar, __medic__," She seethed the last profession, before regressing to the childish chirp, "whatever he wished!"

"That... Doesn't sound like much of... An issue?" Hanzō's confusion bewitched his mind as the serene woman he had watched for years transformed into something darker, a mask so well crafted it had been unnoticeable began to fracture..

Yumeka's gaze cut tore at him with savage abandon, he actually took at step back as the once warm violet, now off blue eyes, a change which he hadn't noticed, darkened with a skin splitting glare turbo charged by an anger long buried.

She fumed, "Nagato would've been free to leave the island! Free to represent the Uzumaki clan! He wouldn't have been considered an__unworthy__ now that the clan's hidden__weakness__ was buried beneath his chakra!" She gasped as her eyes widened at the implications of what she had just done. A childhood of indoctrination to keep everything quiet, whispered promises that everything would be __okay__ once she activated her second chakra.

She paused. Her chest heaved with elation, the partial release of a clan secret that went unspoken for so long unshackled it's weight from her upon her overburdened shoulders. She stood as the crazy giddiness bubbled through her system accompanied by a husky chuckle as she seemed to bounce on the spot with childish taps. Hanzō could only gape in shocked awe as she visibly shuddered whilst stifling a laugh. The woman before him had deformed into a child who had done something terribly wrong and gotten away with. A child that was __glad__ to have gotten away with her crime.

For a child of a shinobi clan, a people who knew the value of information and secrecy, thrived on it even, unforgivable shame should have doused their very essence after having betrayed their clan, their home, their family in such a manner, this child was not one of them. In all, this child was dangerous, one that knew too much and shared their knowledge too easily. Death would be the safe resort, yet one cannot extract information from the mind from a corpse, containment it would have to be, Hanzō's eyes steeled. Nagato wasn't the issue here, it seemed.

A mask fractured may still be repaired, it was only a question of the lengths one would have to go to in order to fix it. What the mask's value would be after repairing it however, was another question.

Would it be worth it?

He would be ashamed to admit that he, the Legendary Hanzō of the Salamander, had been cowed for a short time by a civilian level woman. He cringed inwardly, he would never hear the end of this from Mifune and his Iron Country samurai should it ever get out. He stood as he trained his memories of the years of war, how the fine crimson mists dispersed within the rain, of how they bejewelled the symphony of shrills from injured and the hoarse, throaty rattles of the dying. How all of it was enslaved to the bass of his frantic heartbeat that pounded against his ear drums, the iron stench of crimson and the adrenaline that had coursed through his system, that fuelled his greedy blood as he fought. He channelled it all in to a focussed aura as he grasped at the pictures his mind brought forth, fragmented visions of his dying enemies. He morphed their features and expressions trapped in his mind's eye into the the face of the young woman before him. Re-channelling his intent to kill the nameless men and woman in his mind onto his next victim was an art beloved by experienced shinobi when they had to throw their weight around. If nothing else, Hanzō was considered a master at utilising KI, his intent alone was said to stop the hearts of men before him.

The projected KI dropped Yumeka to the ground as fast as it had been focussed, her heart ravaged her ribs in an attempt to pump out the tide of adrenaline that flooded her system, her mind drew a blank as pure fear reared it's claws and dug them deep into her joints, paralysing her quivering extremities and subduing her on the spot. Despite what she had said, Hanzō needed more than the little information already revealed to grasp the situation fully, only then could he play with a deck stacked in his favour. She may have been loosed lipped so far but it was time for her to realise her place in any arrangements that could come forth. Comply or die.

She quickly got the point, judging by the way she looked towards her son before dipping her head in back his direction. Good.

"Uzumaki have two chakras, the red being the second?" Hanzō pondered, missing the darking of Yumeka's glare towards the ground, "tell me then, how does an Uzumaki activate this chakra, do they have to maintain the change?"

Hanzō may have missed her shift in demeanour, Kyojin however, did not. He had loyally followed his leader for years, picking up on his mannerisms as he went. Unknown to everyone but him, Hanzō had a terrible tendency to lose track of his surroundings should something pique his interest. The loyal had silently re entered the room unannounced upon feeling his leader's KI, knowing full well that he would begin to lose himself to his surprisingly curious nature. His right hand had run through seven unique seals within the time the suddenly aggressive redhead stood up and flew at his leader.

"Genjutsu: Rain Binding!"

__"five years late..."A quick glance, a frown.__

__"Unworthy." A glare.__

__"A failure... she..." A shocked look, then pursed lips.__

__"mother was a nuisance... Bad blood perhaps?" A shake of the head.__

__"Oi! Rice head!"__

Yumeka saw red, how dare he just assume chakra molding was second nature to the clan! He had become the embodiment of what her clans wishes were. An ignorant outsider, unaware of the struggle behind the scenes, the pressure on generation after generation of children to access a powerful chakra like it was nothing? She had told him, __told him__, enough to give him a clue that she hadn't, couldn't, use the chakra and how the clan acted towards the __unworthy___._

She felt her body move before she fully finished processing what was going on. Her rage had empowered her fear ridden frame, she had risen, an open palm flying forwards at Hanzō's face. Then, water. She had but a moment to feel the rain lash around her as a hurricane, she felt each droplet stick, a viscous substance that built up around her, coagulating in her mouth, nostrils, eyes and ears. She felt herself become restrained by the clear liquid, the world muffling and distorting behind the thick translucent gel. A vaguely familiar bubbling warmth burst from the back of her eyes and scalp. The strange substance was gone instantly, much like the storm was lifted away like a veil when that young girl led her into the field. Hanzō seemed to hang ahead of her in slow motion. She could see his expression contort into one of shock as his muscles shifted to move himself to the left, Yumeka simply adjusted her swing to meet him mid motion.

SLAP!

All four of the shinobi in the room stood stock still, mouths agape. The medics had turned to face the action, having temporarily forgotten their charge as Kyojin stood stock still, his hand still left in it's final seal.

Hanzō ignored the assault however, already his hand had caught her retreating wrist, gripping it tight to enough that any increase in pressure would crush the bones. It was her visage however, that left him numb. The crimson of the woman's hair had bled out into a pure white, mottled with the occasional red strand. Her eyes had changed ,changed again, he corrected himself, changing to a very pale blue, the kind of blue that would occur should sun hit the face of mother of pearl, only less vibrant. She couldn't have looked any less Uzumaki now if she wanted to. Red hair, reddish browns, purples, pinks and greys in their eyes had been identified with the thought to be extinct clan but this? It was as if all the Uzumaki in the woman had drained away.

Wait...

He hadn't forgotten Kyojin's concerns over the potential of the now deceased orphans being trained spies. Hanzō knew he was mistaken, however the fact that his shinobi had cast a genjutsu and reported that it had been broken instantly by the blue haired girl leading Yumeka had been intriguing. He now had his answer.

__''T-the recruiters t-tested me...'' ... ''th-they said I couldn't m-mould chakra t-too."__

__"The seals on the bandages, they draw chakra from anything they surround once the matrix is connected, it's how they stay powered."__

__"Involuntarily? I suppose the seal molds the chakra?"__

It wasn't the girl, it was Yumeka who broke the genjutsu. Involuntarily. Kyojin's genjutsu were known to be powerful, the man drew upon more than just chakra to fuel them. He was even infamous among the Hyuuga clan of Konoha for being able to trap them in genjutsu. It seemed that every Uzumaki held the red chakra, chakra powerful enough to dispel even the mightiest of genjutsu. The puzzle here was that the Uzumaki before him couldn't mold it, at least not voluntarily.

...He would find the answer to this puzzle, however.

Yumeka's gaze was no longer on him, focussed instead on the wisps of white hair that fluttered by her eyes. Her paled iris' looked dead to the world, as if the changing hue of the locks had hollowed out her very soul. Mechanically, her free hand reached up as if ordered to by a lousy puppeteer. She twirled a lock around her finger before slowly, as if she was scared to see the result, brought the twisted hair into her vision. She gasped, though there was no real force behind it. Her fingers fell away from her face as her entire posture slumped into Hanzō.

His thought processes crashed to a standstill with the power of the roaring tides. His eyes tracked downwards only to see how she shifted her face against his chest to look at Nagato. Through his jacket, he could feel her flesh tremble through her damp clothing. Her free hand was pressed just above his abdomen, as some form of reflexive support. She simply leaned in like one would expect a long lost lover to do and, embarrassingly enough, she had honestly surprised the man who was known to expect anything. With all the skill of a professional shinobi, he easily ignored the pleasured primal rumblings from within as the softness of the woman's curves pressed against his rigid form, her shuddering breaths pressing her breasts more firmly against him. She was young, easy on the eyes and was relatively well sculpted for a civilian, a body maintained by labour and a healthy diet, though she was a little too lean. He acknowledged and disregarded the physical attraction instantaneously, his heavily disciplined mind returning to the matter at hand.

He still held her wrist, which had moved above her shoulder when she closed the distance. There was no resistance, however. A rebellious part of Hanzō's mind was disappointed to see the fire he had lit within the woman die. Her hand had flopped backwards in his grip, her fingers loosely curled, no strength there. The woman had become little more than a wet rag trembling in the wind. He snapped his fingers in her face to provoke a response but her stare remained, unfazed and unblinking. Good. It would make searching for the answer to his theory easier, at least.

Gently, he pushed her back slightly before he held her chin between his index finger and thumb, gently tilting her head upwards to face him. Her thousand yard stare remained however, seeing everything and nothing all at once, it was getting more eerie by the second. Sliding his thumb upwards, he praised her bottom lip open with his thumb, drawing her mouth open. Opening it the full way, he formed a quick half tiger seal then clicked his fingers. A tiny modified fire jutsu lit a tiny light on the end of his finger, a useful illumination for reading in the dark. Pinching her tongue, he checked underneath, before checking the inside of her cheeks and the roof of her mouth, tilting her head at different angles to ensure he missed nothing. Satisfied that it wasn't there, he grimaced, he really hoped that what he was looking for wasn't somewhere more intimate, he really didn't want to test the Uzumaki's compliance and make more of an enemy out of himself to her than he already was.

He twirled the woman around gently, leading her with his hand still holding her wrist. He ran his fingers through her hair covering her scalp, leering through the strands in an attempt to find a mark on the skin concealed beneath. He failed to find anything behind her ears before managing to stifle a sigh. As he was about to turn to request his medic kunoichi's services, he idly ran his palm up the nape of her neck to move away her hair-

-there.

The same spiral, so similar to the one on the bandages, sat innocently concealed beneath her hair covering the back of her neck. Hanzō recalled that all seals were usually as dark as the ink used to create them, even if constructed purely of chakra. This seal, however, was the palest of greys, almost blending in perfectly with the porcelain of Yumeka's skin. This seal, if her theories were correct earlier on, should be able to utilise the woman's inaccessible chakra. She remained, frustratingly enough, unable to actually mold her chakra even with the seal scribed onto her, yet maybe...

"Yumeka, try to activate your chakra."

She seemed to come back to life as she blinked. Slowly, she ran her tongue across the inside of her mouth to eradicate the foreign dryness brought forth from Hanzō's finger. She seemed to come to an odd conclusion as the dryness vanished, her eyes bulging in what appeared to be fear, before she swallowed, grimacing the whole time. Unknown to Hanzō, she had just undergone the very serious internal debate over whether to spit, risking the shinobi's ire, or swallow and try not to puke.

As a white strand fluttered into her vision, Yumeka seemed to change back into the fiery woman he had awoken again a few minutes before, as she closed her eyes, her jaw locked with fierce determination, a fire written across the knitted muscles drawing together across her brow. Hanzō and Kyojin tensed when her hands flew into a perfect ram seal at a speed expected from an experienced chunin ninjutsu specialist.

Yumeka took herself back to Uzushiogakure, feeling the waves roll against the shore, her breathing slowed to almost nothing before matching the steady rhythm of the ocean. For the first in a long time, she pulled at something she couldn't feel exist, grasping at a mass of nothingness with everything she had.

...Nothing.

'Nothing?' Yumeka's hands fell to her sides as her hair cascaded over her dipped head. Her fists clenched tightly, causing her knuckles to twist into white ivory.

Hanzō twitched, dismissing Kyojin silently, before guiding the woman back into the chair she woke in. He was honestly mystified as to how she had managed to unlock her chakra the first time without the ability to mold it and she'd already made it clear she didn't know. He had hoped that locating a seal similar to the bandages would explain it all but yet here he was with more loose ends to tie up. What did that seal then then? It would have to wait, however, he had a more pressing question, one which had plagued him for years. He was hoping that the somewhat broken woman would be able to handle it.

Yumeka withdrew the forgotten tea and downed the lukewarm mixture with one gulp,

__"Failure."__

__"-no relative of mine!"__

__"At least I have my chakra, Rice Head!"__

A gruff cough, muffled by a gargantuan respirator, "Yumeka?"

Back in the room once more, Yumeka's attention returned to him, a vain attempt at ignoring the ghosts of her past mocking her.

Hanzō shifted slightly before turning to look towards Nagato, she flinched at the action as her fingers quirked to throw the porcelain at the mountain's head. He stopped and looked towards her, his eyes reflecting a deep melancholy that seemed out of place upon his features, his cheek twitched before he set his jaw. To her surprise, the man audibly sighed. She would've laughed in any other situation, the man looked like a lovesick pre-teen.

"I wouldn't normally ask this but the villa- I need to know. The red chakra of the Uzumaki is obviously gained from his lineage but a dojutsu? The only ones I've come across baring those are the clansmen of the Hyuuga and Uchiha."

Yumeka's fists clenched at the mention. A dark loathing burned in the pit of her stomach worse than the bitter concoction that she had taken.

"Yumeka," his pause was louder than a thousand shuriken, she didn't notice her eyes dampen, her teeth grind and her thighs press tightly together at the pre-empted question,

"who was the boy's father?"


End file.
